


Crazy In Love

by CJMartinnn, meowitskatmofo



Series: Our Gotham, Nots Yours [13]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodplay, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Gunplay, M/M, Masochism, Nygmobblepot, Rough Sex, Sadism, Smut, Valzsasz, crackship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJMartinnn/pseuds/CJMartinnn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowitskatmofo/pseuds/meowitskatmofo
Summary: Victor Zsasz is sent to kill Jerome Valeska, but instead they end up starting a beautiful and bloody affair.





	1. Yours and Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. Hear us out. We totally understand that this is a complete and total crack ship. It started with one of us really wanting to write Jerome and after some debating, Zsasz seemed like the best pairing option. And boy, oh boy were we right. Holy crap. We were iffy at at first about whether or not they would work, but now, we both ship it so painfully hard because they're perfect for each other. 
> 
> It seems like a weird pairing, but seriously kiddos, it works. It works so well. Hold onto your hats, give it a shot and join us on this wonderful little crack ship. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The assassination attempt on Jerome Valeska does not go anything like Victor Zsasz expected.

Deep in the slums of Gotham, Victor was crouched down in a dark alley next to a steel door. He had already picked the lock, getting ready to charge in. His target was inside; Jerome Valeska. He was humming to himself, headphones in and singing softly. " _Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around since I was born_..." He was checking his weapons, making sure they were both loaded and ready to go. He stood up, ensuring that his extra clips were in his pocket. Four in total; should be plenty to take out this guy and his crew, he thought. He adjusted his jacket, still singing lightly. " _And now it's all right, it's okay, you may look the other way_..."

He didn't know why Mr. Penguin wanted this man dead and it didn't really matter. You didn't get much work as an assassin if you asked a lot of questions. " _We can try to understand the New York Times' effect on man..._ " He popped one of the earbuds out. He needed to be able to hear, but didn't want to be without his tunes. He turned and burst through the door, guns blazing at the first sign of life he saw. " _Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother, you're stayin' alive, stayin' alive_!"

Two men dropped dead, didn't even have time to stand up from where they had been seated, another coming through from an adjacent hallway. Victor aimed, firing two lethal shots in his chest and smirked as he dropped. " _Feel the city breakin' and everybody's shakin, and we're stayin' alive; except yoooouuuu_." He nudged the corpse with his foot, grinning, humming contently as he surveyed the rat hole around him.

With the Bee Gees blasting in his ear, he shimmeyed his way through the rest of the building, guns ever at the ready. Three guys down, then four, then six and nine dead. Huh, where, oh, where could Jerome be? Victor's intel said that nine was all Jerome had in his crew. They were all dead now and Victor hadn't exactly been subtle with his entrance. So, where could he be? Was he hiding?

Oh, well. Still a few more rooms left to check. " _Stayin' alive, stayin' alive, but nooot for long_ ," Victor sang to himself over the tune, smiling happily as he approached another doorway. He carefully opened the door, looking around cautiously as he stepped through.

Things were going just fucking swell for Jerome. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he was back. He remembered everything, Theo Galavan had put a knife in his throat right in his fucking prime. He wasn't quite sure how, all he knew was that he woke up in Indian Hill, Professor Strange attempting to tell him he was someone else. But Jerome remembered everything. None of that really mattered, he was back. He had a new lease on life and boy, oh boy, he was not going to waste a moment of it.

While he was gone, he had developed a little bit of a cult following and what a rush! He was practically a god to these people. He had a few people that he had decided he liked more than others, these goons proving to be far more useful than he was expecting. Slowly but surely, Jerome was making a name for himself again back in Gotham, climbing up the ladder in the criminal underground, creating chaos and generally just doing what he loved most: striking fear in the heart of the citizens of Gotham.

Today, they had robbed a bank and set fire to one of the mayor's clubs. So when he heard gunshots in the hideout, he wasn't really too surprised. He was downright giddy. By the time the gunman had made him way to Jerome's makeshift bedroom in the hideout, he was prepared. He climbed up into the rafters, the drop not too high so he could jump down. When the door slowly opened, he waited patiently, hopping down when the time was right, his arm wrapping around the man's throat and his gun to his head, giggling at momentarily having the upperhand.

"Hey gorgeous, I'm Jerome!" he introduced himself, a charming smile spread ear to ear. "I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and guess you're searching for little old me. How can I be of service?" he taunted, his natural showmanship shining through, over confident in his abilities to handle himself.

Victor smiled. It was not a nice smile. This damn mark had gotten the drop on him; probably a good idea not to jam out to music while murdering people in the future. Perhaps he had been arrogant thinking this was going to be simple. Victor was a little surprised at himself that he hadn't realized that the little redhead was up there. Even with just one ear bud in, he still should have been able to hear him. Maybe he was getting sloppy, maybe the guy was just that good. Sneaky little devil. He was impressed.

Regardless, Victor didn't feel as if he was in any real danger, which is why he was smiling. He could sense the strength in the young man's arm wasn't anything he couldn't fight off and the gun pressed to his head was shaking. Not from fear, no, something else. Excitement. That was interesting.

Still holding his guns, Victor wiggled the fingers of one hand in a little wave. He smirked, replying in a friendly voice, "Hi! Nice to meet you. My name is Victor Zsasz. You could certainly make this easy and shoot yourself, that'd be great. You see, I'm here to kill you."

Jerome was a bit surprised, not sensing one ounce of fear from Victor. Oooh, this was going to be fun. He decided to make things that much more interesting, letting go of the other, though he kept his gun drawn and pointed at him, looking him over for a moment. Cute _and_ ballsy.

"Been there, done that. Not really all too interested in the whole, dying again thing. But how polite of you to ask!" Jerome exclaimed, leaning in, face merely inches from the others, standing eye to eye with him. He sized the other up, childlike curiosity getting the better of him as he took a step back, starting to pace back and forth, never putting down his gun.

Victor straightened himself up when Jerome let go of him, keeping both guns trained on him where ever he went as he moved about. His face stayed calm, but he let his eyes wander, especially when Jerome got so close. Mugshots did not do this guy any justice. What a fucking waste, Victor lamented. He was... He was very nice to look at.

Jerome had a feeling he had some time before Victor was going to try to kill him, which meant he had a chance to play. He could talk his way out of just about anything, that boyish charm of his generally giving him the upper hand. It would certainly be a shame to shoot such a pretty face. Jerome at least wanted to have some fun first.

Victor was absolutely fascinated that Jerome wasn't afraid of him. His entire demeanor was wild, playful. Victor realized he was intrigued. Did he just say that he had already died once? He put away one of his guns, reholstering it slowly. One weapon was enough, wasn't it? He could take this guy with his bare hands in a heart beat if he wanted to. But he was hesitating.

Jerome reached out after a moment, grabbing the barrel of Victor's remaining gun and putting it up to his own head. "What're you waiting for, good lookin'? Oh! Do you wanna have some fun first? Come on, hit me! Shoot me! Stab me! Pretty please?"

When Jerome grabbed his gun and pressed it right to his head, Victor couldn't pull the trigger. It wasn't all the compliments, although Victor enjoyed that quite a bit. The problem was that people who were about to die would give him all kinds of flattery. They would beg, scream, plead, offer him their bodies and the moon. This... This was different. Victor liked different.

Victor's stern face cracked a smile, enjoying this. Some fun, huh? Victor did like having fun. "Well, baby doll, you have to understand I'm here because you pissed off someone very important. And that's a problem. So, he called me. I fix problems." He kept his gun pressed against Jerome's head right where he had put it, tilting his head as he admired that charming smile. "But I'm starting to think there's no real fixing you, is there?"

"Nope!" Jerome certainly noticed Victor's gaze lingering, that boyishly charming smile turning into a dark little smirk. "Ding, ding, ding! You guessed the right answer!" He cheered, pulling back the hammer on the gun, making it all that much easier for Victor to just pull the trigger.

When the hammer of the gun cocked, Victor's mouth actually parted in shock. He'd never knowing any creature like this Jerome. He was fascinating. It seemed only fitting that Donna Summer's I Feel Love started growling in his ear. He licked his lips, slowly and deliberately. There was something deep inside of him that was stirring, a great beast slowly coming out of hibernation.

"Who did I piss off? I do love getting under people's skin," Jerome questioned, raising an eyebrow curiously. He brought his other hand up, resting his chin against his palm, his nails digging at his cheek, tugging down his bottom eyelid for a moment. He absolutely loved knowing he was getting to someone big and powerful. "Ooh! Let me guess. Is it a certain little fine, feathered mayor? Feeling threatened by little ol' me?" He knew he was right, letting out a fake offended gasp, his jaw dropping as his hand clutched at his own chest. "It has to be. Such a fine fellow like you can't be cheap."

"Ding ding!" Victor laughed happily. He loved watching this man's face contorting, twisting around as he danced between multiple levels of madness. What a beautiful little monster. Victor was still riding out the adrenaline rush of having murdered his entire crew and this was getting more exciting by the second. Jerome didn't even seem to care that they were all dead. "And oh, I don't know about 'threatened'. Maybe very 'annoyed'. You'd understand if you knew him. The little man sure does have a nasty little temper."

Jerome leaned in again, faces barely inches from Victor's as he spoke. Jerome had zero respect for personal space. His voice was low, guttural, hissing, "C'mon! Let's give your boss a show then, handsome! Let's bust up my pretty little face! That's what he wants to see, isn't it?" He grinned, flipping right back to charming. "You look like you could use a little fun, after all."

"I really do like having fun, it's true," Victor said with a nod of his head before he slowly put his other gun back in its holster. He licked his lips again, smirking deviously.

"Oh, I can tell, you're tons of fun." Jerome's eyes fell to Victor's lips as his tongue slipped over them, excitement building in the pit of his stomach as he flashed a toothy little grin.

Victor's heart was thudding softly with anticipation. It had been a while since he'd had... something quite so hands on. Gloved fingers reached out, grabbing Jerome by his face. He looked him over carefully, studying that attractive face, and head butted him right in his nose. He shoved him away towards the ground, smirking smugly. "Having fun yet?"

Jerome howled with laughter as he was shoved to the ground, blood pouring out of his nose down over his lips and teeth. What a rush!

Victor sighed, a low and deep sound. He was hypnotized by the blood gushing down Jerome's and that seemingly ever present smile. This man was clearly sick and Victor liked it. A lot.

"Oh, a blast!" Jerome smirked, standing back up, putting his face right in Victor's again. He grabbed his hand and bringing it back up to hold his jaw once more. "That was oddly pleasant... again!" he demanded, bouncing on his feet, giving that gloved hand a squeeze to grip his jaw tighter. He barely gave Victor a second, his eyes narrowing. " _Again_!"

Victor did as he was asked without hesitation, cracking his head against Jerome's sweet face again. He didn't let him fall just yet, grabbing him by the shoulders and throwing him up against the wall. He pinned him there, smiling contently.

"What a naughty little thing you are," Victor said, laughing, true admiration in his tone. He leaned close, close enough that he could smell Jerome's blood seeping down his face. A gloved finger slowly traced the blood over his mouth.

Jerome was loving every last second, panting as he was shoved up against the wall. His laughter just grew louder, running his tongue along Victor's gloved finger as it passed over his lips, loving the taste of leather and blood. "You have no idea, big boy," he replied with a smirk.

Victor dug his fingers into Jerome's hair, slamming his face against the wall. His chest was heaving from all the excitement, baring his teeth. It would be so easy to just snap his neck, end it all here. But Victor wanted to keep playing. Penguin had told him to take care of Jerome. This was sort of taking care of him, wasn't it? Victor had never failed at taking down a mark; but this was quickly becoming complicated.

Jerome let out a little groan when his head hit the wall, cackling as he felt the sharp pain shooting through his face. Fuck, Victor was _definitely_ a good time. "I know you've got more than that," he taunted, tilting his head so Victor pulled his red hair more. He spit a mouthful of blood in Victor's face, grinning wide.

"I've got more than enough for you," Victor snapped, hissing loudly when Jerome spat in his face. He licked his lips as it ran down around his mouth, the rich iron taste familiar and warm. This was heaven. His blood was pumping, that beast inside of him awake now and ready to play. It had been so very long. He tilted his head back and forth, his neck popping audibly as he readied himself.

This certainly hadn't been how Jerome had expected his day to go, but my, oh my, what a fun little plaything Victor was. He was definitely far more entertaining than spending time with that boring little squad who all but worshipped the ground Jerome walked on. He reached up and grabbed Victor's jaw hard, bringing his face close again as he spoke, "You weren't kidding, huh? This is the most fun I have had in _ages_." He suddenly head butted Victor in the mouth, grinning wide as blood began to spill from his lips, leaning in and lapping his tongue over the trail on his chin. "Gotta make it convincing for your boss, right?"

Victor growled softly, a flash of white crossing his vision from the blow. His eyes fluttered when he felt Jerome's hot tongue sliding over his flesh. He kept his grip on Jerome's hair, nice and tight, bringing up his leg and striking his face right across his knee. To seal the deal, Victor dropped an elbow into Jerome's back while he was hunched over, laughing.

Jerome's felt his pulse growing faster with each blow, the blood and bruising going straight to his cock. My, my, Victor was the most delightful little plaything Jerome had ever encountered. He let out a sharp little gasp as his face was bashed against his knee, cackling at the elbow to his spine.

Victor snatched him up by his shoulders again, throwing him up against the wall. He slammed his face back against the bricks, dragging him over to a small shabby table. He threw him up on it, punching Jerome across the face. He grinned at the bloody sight he'd made, loving every fucking second of this. He put a gloved hand against Jerome's throat, Victor's teeth finding the soft flesh of his shoulder and biting down hard. "Yes," he mumbled, teeth still locked down tight. "Very convincing." He found himself pressing his body against the other's, loving the warmth and closeness.

Jerome was gasping heavily, blood splashing from his busted lip. He let out a flat out moan as he felt that hand against his throat, the lack of air making his head spin all that much more. The bite at his shoulder only served to get him more turned on, hoisting his legs up around Victor's waist, pulling him in closer. "Harder." he choked out, heels digging into Victor's back.

As Jerome's legs curled around him, Victor couldn't hide how turned on he was, his grip tightening as Jerome had asked. A very stubborn erection was now pressing into his mark, delighted to find that Jerome was just as aroused when their hips pushed together. This twisted monster was getting to him in a bad way and Victor knew he was letting his guard down. He knew this was foolish, but his heart was racing, cock aching, and he couldn't get the taste of Jerome's blood out of his mouth.

Jerome rarely took interest in anyone, no one quite crazy enough to hold his attention. But Victor? He could certainly keep Jerome entertained. He was doing a bang up job so far. His hand reached up, tugging hard at the front of Victor's shirt, ripping off some of the buttons in the buttons in the process. "What else have you got for me, handsome?" he questioned, gasping through Victor's tight grip, running his bloody tongue along his jaw.

"I've got something very special in mind for you, baby doll," Victor assured him, released his grip on Jerome's neck to shrug off his shoulder holster, peeling off his shirt to reveal the small tick tack network of scars all over his stomach and arms.

"Oh yeah, gorgeous? And what's that?" Jerome questioned, struggling to catch his breath, his tone dark and wanting. His eyes roamed over Victor's body as he pulled his shirt off, intrigued at the tally marks along his skin.

Victor smiled, deliberately not answering. His ear buds had been lost to the floor, but he picked them back up and stuck one in his ear. He smiled, taking the other and leaning close, putting it in Jerome's ear. Blondie's "Heart of Glass" was playing. Victor's hand reeled back and backhanded the shit out of Jerome. He hit him again and again, grunting from the effort.

Jerome was delighted when Victor shared his earbud, downright giddy with each rough back hand as it synced up with the song as it played. His face was on fire from the flat out beating he was taking, but fuck did it have his blood boiling under his skin. This certainly wasn't what he had been expecting, but he had every intention of keeping Victor around.

Victor had hit him so hard the ear piece came flying out, but Victor was kind enough to retrieve it and place it back in his ear. Victor's knuckles were stinging, fingers now going to work to strip Jerome's shirt off, fumbling with his pants. He moved his mouth over Jerome's cheek, his tongue lapping at the blood.

Jerome pressed his bloody nose along Victor's jaw, trailing his tongue up to his ear, nipping and tugging at his lobe harshly. Jerome continued to trail heated, hungry kisses down his neck, finding his pulse and biting down hard enough to break skin, lapping at the blood that popped up beneath his teeth. He savored the rich taste on his tongue, smiling wide. He had made up his mind, Victor Zsasz was his new play thing and his alone.

Victor wondered if his new friend would be up for what he had in mind; if not, he could always just shoot him and finish the job he was really supposed to be doing. He didn't think it would come to that, no, not how this was going. He let out a loud moan, caught up in the hot kisses and bites and blood all over his neck. He grunted stubbornly, pushing Jerome away so he could grab his pants and pull them off. He let out a little happy groan, loving what he saw.

Victor grabbed one of his guns that he'd discarded on the floor. He licked the barrel seductively, smiling wickedly.

Limits weren't really a thing that existed in Jerome's little world, certainly Victor couldn't do anything that he wouldn't be up for. Jerome had bared his blood covered teeth as Victor shoved him away, all but growling. He was enjoying himself. But that quick flash of anger was replaced with a heated little moan as he watched his new play thing's tongue slide along the barrel of his gun.

Victor took his time, slowly sliding the gun up Jerome's pale thigh. The cold metal went higher and higher, resting right between the apex of his legs. His hand slowly reached out and seized Jerome around his throat, pulling him in close. This beautiful, bloody thing... Victor couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so fucking alive. His dark eyes looked over Jerome's face, excited, saying softly, "I think I'm going to keep you."

Jerome's breathing hitched harshly as the gun ran along his thighs, green eyes following it closely. Jerome growled as Victor grabbed him by the throat again, smirking at his words. "Keep me then," he growled, glad they were on the same page.

Then, and only then, did Victor kiss him. All teeth and blood, his skin burning with the rush of such nasty play when their mouths met. He started pressing the barrel of the gun against his tight hole, pushing it and twisting it all around. There was certainly no way it would go in, but fuck, it felt good to try. He even cocked the hammer back, a loud growl coming over him as he slammed his mouth into Jerome's as he deepened their kiss.

Jerome was practically shaking with anticipation as Victor crashed their lips together in a desperate, starving bloody kiss. His jaw went slack for a moment as he felt the cool metal pressing against his hole, hips grinding down eagerly against the gun. When the hammer cocked back, Jerome felt goosebumps rising on his skin, a moan spilling out into Victor's mouth.

The harshness of it all had Jerome's cock dripping, desperate for more. One hand came up to rest against the back of Victor's neck, nails clawing into the pale skin harshly as he pulled him in impossibly closer, teeth gnashing together, tongue exploring hungrily. His other hand shoved down into Victor's pants, seizing his cock in his hand, stroking him eagerly. He could certainly get used to this.

When Jerome began to push his hips down against the gun, Victor's heart soared. Where the fuck had this perfect little twisted creature been hiding at all of his life! He rammed the barrel harder, his kissing becoming even more frenzied. When Jerome grabbed onto his cock, Victor was practically roaring. He bit at Jerome's lip, hard, trying to catch his tongue and bite that, too. "Mine," he hissed, swallowing back a mouthful of spit and blood. "You are fucking mine now."

Each harsh bite to his lip and tongue had Jerome writhing, hips rutting down desperately on the barrel of Victor's gun. When he heard that first possessive 'mine' spill past Victor's lips against his own... oh, what a rush! He didn't contest one bit, nodding in agreement, feeling equally as possessive. His short, blunt nails dragged harshly down Victor's neck and shoulders. "Yours," he agreed.

Jerome had never been quite so desperate for anyone before. This was new territory for him entirely. Sure, he had had a few meaningless lays, but it had been nothing more than relieving the occasional teenage sexual frustration. But Victor... this was different. He was captivated by this vicious, sadistic monster before him, quickly finding himself obsessed. Jerome wasn't exactly the picture of mental health, after all. But it didn't matter, they very clearly had an unspoken understanding.

The gun was soon forgotten, Victor moving his cock to take its place. No lube, no spit, ramming it in hard and dry. It burned, his hips frantically pushing harder trying to wedge himself in. Fuck, Jerome was so damn tight. He had to be inside of him, he wanted to fuck him so hard.

Jerome's head tipped back, letting out a guttural growl as the other shoved his cock into him dry. It stung like a bitch, feeling like he was being torn open from the inside out. The pain only left Jerome wanting Victor even more.

Victor lifted up one of Jerome's legs, hoisting it up on his shoulder. Desperate for entry, he spat on his hand, lubing the head of his cock down so he could finally ram himself inside Jerome.

Jerome's heel dug hard into Victor's shoulder as it was hoisted up, a devious, dark grin spreading across his face as he watched him rubbing spit onto his cock so the real fun could begin.

That first sweet thrust, Victor gasped at how fucking good it felt. He kissed Jerome, his mouth clinging to his lips and down to his jaw, teething gnashing and drawing more blood. "All fucking mine."

Victor's entire length finally sinking all the way into him had Jerome groaning shamelessly, rolling his hips down passionately. His burning desire only grew stronger and stronger as he felt more skin breaking, more blood and spit dripping down over his neck and throat.

Jerome eagerly rocked his hips to meet each and every thrust he was given, tightly coiling his legs around Victor. Reaching out and roughly gripping at his jaw, his index finger shoving into the older man's mouth as he forced Victor's head to tilt back. He viciously bit at the front of his throat, leaving immediate bruises and puncture wounds in his wake, letting the blood pool in his mouth before swallowing it down. "Fucking mine," he growled against his throat, making it as clear as day that his mind was set.

If anyone dared touch or even look at his new playmate the wrong way, there would be hell to pay. Jerome rarely played nice to begin with and he certainly didn't share, especially not something as exquisite as Victor. This was far too much fun to let anyone else enjoy.

Victor groaned as Jerome forced his head back, gasping at the bite. It burned and ached and Victor fucking loved it. "Yours," he sighed happily, smiling wide. His; yes. They would be each other's and this madness between them was going to be the affair of a lifetime. This beautiful little monster belonged to him now, every sweet inch of him was Victor's. God help any poor bastard that tried to take him away from him. Victor was very protective of his property after all and Jerome was absolutely priceless.

Victor slammed his cock into Jerome harder, fueled by the pain of the bite at his throat, not worrying if he was hurting his new plaything. He was confident that Jerome could handle anything he gave him. Fuck, he felt so damn tight. He pushed his mouth back up against his in a bloody, sloppy kiss. No one else would ever know what it felt like to kiss him, how he tasted like danger and madness.

Jerome took every last rough thrust Victor gave him, not one to break easily. If anything, he eagerly slammed his hips down harder and faster, convinced he would never be able to get enough. As their lips crashed back together, Jerome let out a little growl, panting heavily through his nose as they picked up the pace. There wasn't a single desire in his twisted little heart that wasn't being met.

Victor grabbed Jerome's cock, leather clad fingers squeezing tight as he began to jerk him off. He let his tongue slide past Jerome's lips, his kiss starting to become deeper and more passionate. He knew he was getting close already and concentrated on holding off. He broke away from their kiss, looking down and watching his cock sliding in and out of Jerome. He glanced back up to his new toy's face, admiring him and all the beautiful expressions he made as he fucked him raw.

When Victor's fingers wrapped around his cock, Jerome immediately felt his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach, head slamming back against the wall hard as their lips broke apart. He finally allowed his eyes to slip shut for a moment, that ever present smile spreading across his lips. If Victor could be this damn incredible on the first round, Jerome could hardly wait until they actually got know each other.

This was going to be so much _fun_. Victor was just the right level of danger, cold blooded, and madness to match Jerome's particular brand of crazy. Now that he had him all to himself, Jerome was going to enjoy his new little toy every opportunity he had. He couldn't wait to break him in and wear him out.

As much as Jerome wanted this to last forever, it was all just too God damn good. All it took was a few more particularly rough thrusts and Jerome was done for. He let out a loud, unabashed moan, coming hard all over those leather gloves, his fluids adding to the mixture of blood, sweat and saliva that had ran down his stomach. His body went even tighter around Victor's cock, riding out every last wave of his orgasm, eyes fluttering back open to watch his new play thing's face.

Victor purred as he watched Jerome come, that gorgeous body tightening down around his cock was incredible. Victor cried out, his climax crashing over him within seconds as he rammed into Jerome in time with each shuddering quiver.

Jerome let out another breathless groan as he felt Victor come inside of him, keeping his hips rocking in time with the other's until he had finished. He was grinning from ear to ear, mmph, that was _fun_.

Victor was panting, chest heaving from the intensity of it all. His head felt fuzzy from coming so hard. He took off his gloves, his warm, bare hands sliding over Jerome's sides. His body was incredible, finally taking a moment to appreciate it. He took a finger, dipped it in the mix of fluids all over Jerome's stomach and sucked it off his finger greedily. "You taste... So damn good."

Fuck, did Jerome love the feeling of Victor's hands roaming along his sides and over his stomach, watching with a devious little grin as he licked his fingers clean like he was starving.

Victor leaned in, his mouth grabbing at Jerome's in another sweet bloody kiss. His heart fluttered. This man was so perfect and devious and Victor couldn't wait to fuck him again. He nuzzled his face against Jerome's cheek, licking at the blood around Jerome's lips, saying softly, "You're coming home with me." It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

It was very practical; Jerome didn't have a crew to protect him any more and his hideout was now full of dead bodies. Plus, Victor would need to stash Jerome away until he could talk to Penguin and work something out. Victor had never asked Oswald for anything; certainly with all he had done for him he would grant him this one request.

As his new toy seized his lips, Jerome happily returned the kiss. His jaw went slack as Victor nuzzled at his cheek, letting out a pleased little giggle as the other man licked the blood from around his mouth. Jerome normally did not take well to other's calling the shots; especially after the whole, getting murdered thing the last time he let it happen. But hey, what was keeping him here in his little hideout now? He shrugged his shoulder, reaching up and grabbing Victor's jaw again.

"Only if you promise to keep me entertained, kitten." Jerome nodded, that delightful infectious charm back in his tone. He sucked on Victor's lower lip, biting at it affectionately before pushing him back.

"That is one promise I can definitely keep, baby doll," Victor assured him, humming happily. He picked the ear buds from their ears, catching the first bit of Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Were Made For Walkin' before he stopped the music.

Once he had a little bit of personal space, Jerome practically bounced off of the table onto his feet, tugging his clothes back on after cleaning himself up a little. Once they were both dressed, Jerome gathered up a few of his things and was quick to hook his arm with Victor's. "Let's get this show on the road, gorgeous!" he exclaimed, eager to see just what his new play thing had in store for him.

Victor grinned as Jerome took his arm, guiding his new friend towards the exit, casually stepping over the bodies of Jerome's fallen crew as if they were forgotten trash someone hadn't picked up.

Jerome followed Victor's lead, but where Victor had stepped over the corpses, Jerome saw an opportunity for some fun. He eagerly jumped onto the first body he encountered, delighted at the crunch of bone he felt beneath his feet. Keeping Victor's arm for balance, he hopped from body to body on their way outside like the floor was lava, that delighted giggles escaping him the whole way.

Outside, Victor led Jerome out to his car, a black 1972 Nova SS; it was a mean little beast of a ride and Jerome thought it fit him perfectly. He let out a low whistle, giving him a little wink and nod of approval before hopping in.

Victor smirked at that wink as he took his place behind the wheel. He cranked it up, grinning at the loud roar of the engine. He took his phone back out, detaching the ear phones and hooking it up to the radio of the car. He fiddled around until he heard Nancy crooning again through the speakers, picking right back up where he had paused it. He turned the radio up, yelling over the music, "Hold on tight!"

Victor popped his black beauty into gear and took off. Victor loved driving fast, hauling ass down the streets of Gotham. He whipped in and out of traffic, laughing when he almost mowed someone down who had stepped out from the sidewalk too soon. He reached over, his hand sliding up Jerome's thigh, giving it a squeeze.

Jerome was rather enjoying himself as Victor tore through the streets, grinning wide when he almost ran someone over. His eyes dropped down to Victor's hands running along his thigh, already feeling just the slightest bit worked up again at his touch. He leaned across the seat, biting at Victor's neck with a happy growl. "I really, really cannot wait to see where you live," he growled in his ear. "Like, the bedroom, in particular."

Victor hissed softly, slamming his foot against the accelerator when he felt Jerome's teeth. He could feel goosebumps popping up over his skin already, leaning into Jerome's mouth as he assured him, "Easy, baby doll. Don't you worry. Almost there."


	2. Home, Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Jerome continue to get to know each other, but Victor must get Oswald’s blessing for their relationship to continue.

The drive to Victor Zsasz's apartment did not take long; not with the way he drove. Once he and Jerome had arrived, Victor hurried out, so very eager to be inside. He was a tangle of hands and bites as he herded Jerome up to door. Jerome was as giddy as could be as they made their way upstairs, enjoying the little bites and the way Victor couldn't keep his hands to himself. Victor unlocked the door, swinging it open. He picked up Jerome, grinning as he crossed into the threshold with his new toy in his arms. "Honey, we're home!"

Jerome dramatically tossed his arms around Victor's shoulders as he carried him through the threshold, kicking his feet a bit. He laughed as Victor turned him to the door, using his foot to swing it shut.

Jerome excitedly looked around, excited at all the space around them. The apartment was modestly furnished; simple, clean, dark grays with splashes of red. He had never really lived in any sort of normal home, having been a part of a traveling circus, then spending his time in Arkham and only having minimal time with their former mayor. To have an actual, real apartment was thrilling. "Nice place, gorgeous." he grinned, allowing himself to be carried as long as Victor wanted to do so.

Victor bit at his toy's neck, chuckling darkly. "Thank you, baby doll. It's yours now, too." He whisked Jerome over to his bedroom, dropping him down on a giant, plush bed.

Jerome let out a delighted little squeal as Victor set him down against the big, cushy bed. He flopped back for a moment, rolling around like a puppy making itself comfy.

There was a small bar next to his dresser and there Victor went, making two stiff drinks. He handed one to Jerome, raising his glass in a toast with a sly wink. "Here's to new friends. Gorgeous, completely mad, red headed fools with tight asses."

Jerome clinked his glass together against Victor's, cackling. "To new friends, especially handsome bald ones that come to kill you and then don't!" Jerome agreed, knocking the drink back in one big gulp.

Victor chugged back the drink quickly knowing he had personal business to attend to. His skin was already beginning to itch. He had to cut. There was a small chaise at the foot of the bed and a little velvet box. He sat down on the chaise, discarding his jacket and shirt. He opened the box, revealing a set of razor blades. He took a deep breath, his head rolling around as he popped his neck. Nine more to add, nine more cuts to make for his tally to be complete. He picked up one of the blades, holding it up so Jerome could see it. He had never shared this with anyone else before, not even his beloved Zsaszettes. He didn't think they'd understand; but Jerome would.

"One cut for each soul," Victor sighed huskily, his sleek brows furrowing up. It was almost as intimate as sex, making the marks. He wouldn't feel complete until the deed was done. His eyes wandered over himself, waiting to find the right place. There were already dozens of marks on his body, the fruits of his labor as a successful career assassin.

Jerome had been wondering about the tally marks, and now that he had an answer, well his new little plaything was all that much more interesting. His big green eyes grew dark, smirking as he crawled over to Victor, leaning over his back, his arms draping over his shoulders over his chest, fingers tracing over the raised up marks, fascinated when he learned what they were for.

"My, my," Jerome purred into his ear, tracing his tongue along his earlobe before biting at his earlobe, grabbing Victor's hand as he settled his jaw into the crook of his neck. He watched as he guided Victor's hand to his forearm, just below another set of marks. "Don't let me stop you," he purred, positioning the blade against his skin, eyes fixated as he waited, excited to be a part of his little ritual.

Victor smiled, grunting softly when Jerome bit at his ear. He leaned back into him, happy to be in his new toy's arms. He loved how Jerome seemed fascinated with his cuts, touching them so curiously. And now, holding his hand in his and wanting to help him do it? He was so grateful he had never shared this with anyone else before. It had to have been fate; he was meant to share this with Jerome, Victor was sure of it now. He felt a delightful shiver run down his spine, pressing the blade in deep to make the first cut.

Hot red blood bubbled out from the wound, Victor sighing passionately. It was so cathartic, the ultimate release. "Eighty six." He cut again, carefully and slowly, making sure they were both of equal length. "Eighty seven." He took a deep breath, rearing his head back to nip at Jerome's throat. He was already getting hard again; the pain and the smell of blood and Jerome sharing in this was so sexy. He cut again, and again, counting out each one. "Eighty eight, eighty nine, ninety, ninety one, ninety two, ninety three."

Jerome watched closely, wide eyed, his breathing becoming more and more shallow with each cut, watching as the red hot blood rose up over each cut, watching it run down over his arm. When Victor bit at his throat, Jerome let out a little growl, his cock stirring from the excitement of getting to take part in Victor's little ritual.

"Ninety four," he breathed out, watching the blood ooze out from the final cut, his forearm now soaked with his own blood. It ran down his arm in little rivers. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his ears. With the hand not holding the razor, he reached back and grabbed Jerome's hair, jerking his fingers through it. "Ninety four souls freed."

When Victor reached up and grabbed his hair, Jerome felt the warm blood from his arm run down his cheek and over his lips. He didn't hesitate to run his tongue along the other's arm, lapping at the blood, groaning. But something wasn't right. No, no. Victor had said souls freed, not necessarily bodies left dead. He nuzzled against Victor's cheek, trailing his tongue along his throat before pulling away, moving to crawl into his lap. "Oh, I believe you're missing a mark, kitten." he smirked, shoving Victor back against the bed hard.

"Oh? Am I?" Victor challenged, laughing as he tumbled onto the bed. Jerome looked so handsome, Victor's blood smeared all over his face, that devilish smile taunting him.

Jerome reached for his hand with the razor, guiding it over his stomach, just below his navel. "You said souls freed. I'm a little offended you aren't including little ol' me," he murmured, crawling to settle himself on his knees between Victor's thighs. He guided the razor along his skin, pressing down just hard enough to leave the same sort of mark, although this was his mark. It belonged to Jerome and Jerome alone. He wasn't another faceless, nameless mark. As he dragged the razor along, he curved the edge of the mark, just enough to slightly resemble a little 'j'.

Victor sucked in a sharp breath when he realized what Jerome was doing. Ninety five souls. Jerome made ninety five. It was true; Victor had every opportunity to kill him and he hadn't. That mark there, that little curve burning in the tender flesh of his belly, that life was his to take whenever he wanted.

Not Victor could ever imagine the day when he would ever collect. He never wanted this to ever end, dizzy from the emotional rush of it all.

Once he had finished, Jerome looked over his handiwork with a pleased sigh. He let go of Victor's hand and leaning down, flat, warm tongue and hungry lips lapping up the warm blood that pooled. "Ninety-five," he murmured against his stomach, the heat of everything leaving Jerome hard as a rock again, more than ready for round two with his little plaything.

When Victor felt Jerome's hot tongue lapping down at his flesh, he couldn't stand it any longer. His dick was so hard he could feel his pulse down there. He set the blade aside and started unbuttoning his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking it inches away from Jerome's mouth. His arm was still bleeding, warm spots of red smearing all over himself as he gazed at Jerome. "Your life is mine now," he said, groaning softly. "You owe me a life; yours, forever."

Jerome couldn't recall a time he had ever been so captivated by someone before. But fuck, every last little thing about Victor had him completely and utterly sucked in. But he certainly knew what it meant leaving that mark. He belonged to Victor and Victor alone, or his life was forfeit. It was a strange thing to him, feeling such an intense tether to anyone, especially so quickly. But there they were.

"Yours to take," Jerome confirmed, smiling wide and licking his lips, watching Victor's cock intently.

Victor grabbed Jerome's jaw, tugging him on top of him for a rough kiss. He couldn't imagine a more intimate commitment. He moaned against his lips, murmuring softly, "I'm going to fuck you again now. Hard, so very hard until you're screaming for me to come in you."

"Well what're you waiting for?" Jerome growled, eagerly pressing his blood covered lips back against the others in a heated kiss. He just barely let his ass grind down against Victor's cock, wanting to drive him back to madness and desperation, eager to feel his cock inside of him again. "We'll see about that whole screaming thing. I don't beg," he added with a smirk, knowing the challenge alone would bring that beast back out to play.

"Oh, you will be," Victor promised with a wicked smile. He wrapped his arms around Jerome's waist, flipping him back onto the cushy bed and straddling him. He dug his erection into his beautiful toy, grinding against his leg, his mouth hovering over the tender flesh of his throat. He ran his tongue slowly over his skin, biting just hard enough to sting, teasing him. His hands made quick work of Jerome's shirt, fingers exploring his flesh and his mouth following close behind. He bit here and there, taking his nipple in his mouth, sucking and gnawing contently.

Victor couldn't believe how excited he was. His skin felt like it was on fire, especially that tender place where Jerome had left his mark. He wanted to fuck him so badly, to make him bleed and scream; but he couldn't resist a challenge. His hand reached out, fingers curling around his throat as he continued to kiss and toy of the flesh of Jerome's chest. Victor was patient; he could wait. He was sure he could outlast his devilish little friend.

Jerome let out a pleased little giggle as Victor flipped him over onto his back, groaning at all the attention between his hands, his mouth and the feeling of his erection rutting away at his leg. His jaw went slack as Victor's mouth and teeth latched onto his nipple, his hand reaching up and clawing at the back of the other's neck.

Victor snaked a hand high up to grab his throat, squeezing tightly as he moved his body seductively against his. There, just a little more. Just enough to really get him going. He wanted to drive Jerome right to that insane edge they both danced upon, somewhere between ecstasy and madness. Suddenly without warning, Victor hopped up as if nothing had happened. He stood up, licking his lips, saying casually as he grabbed his empty glass, "I could use another drink."

Jerome was certainly beginning to lose the battle, his back arching off of the bed towards Victor's mouth, letting out a choked little groan as he felt his playmate's hand squeeze around his throat. Victor was just about to win their little wager, but then he just pulled away. Jerome was left panting, eyes narrowing viciously in Victor's direction.

"That's not very nice." Jerome hissed, quickly jumping to his feet. It was a dangerous line to tow, the both of them easily able to be pushed just a bit too far. And Jerome was furious now, snapping to his feet. He stepped dangerously close, snarling viciously. He didn't hesitate, bring his fist down hard across Victor's mouth. "Not playing nice won't get you your way."

Victor's head snapped back from the force of the blow, the split in his lip reopening and fresh blood starting to flow. Oh, that was nice. He licked his lips, smacking them loudly. "Hmmm, you see, that's where you're wrong," Victor said calmly, taking enough steps to get to his bar and pour himself another drink. He sipped it slowly, the alcohol burning his damaged lip. He raised his foot, kicking Jerome right in the gut, sending him down on his knees. He seized him by the back of his head, forcing him to look up at him with a dark smile.

Jerome could handle pain like a champ, he thrived on it. But that blow to his stomach did exactly what Victor wanted, knocking the wind out of him and bringing him to his knees. He laughed at Victor when he grabbed a fistful of hair, sneering up at him.

"I always get what I want," Victor assured him from over the rim of the glass. He knew that there would never be an easy road with this one; he was just as stubborn as he was. It would always be a fight, a battle for control. Or at least, Victor hoped so. He loved a challenge, especially from such a beautiful and intoxicating creature.

Victor's fingers tightened their grip, kneeling down beside Jerome and pressing the edge of the glass up to Jerome's mouth. He was a very thoughtful beast after all. Maybe his little monster was thirsty. He smirked wickedly, adding, "And I never like to play nice."

When Victor put the glass to his lips, Jerome was able to taste his blood from his mouth on the glass. He took a long sip, waiting until he pulled the glass away.

Jerome was certainly gonna be a challenge, that was for certain. He smiled sweetly, before spitting the liquor out in Victor's face. "Well then, I guess you're just gonna have to try harder," he mocked, not ready to give in quite yet. He fought against Victor's hold in his hair, wanting more so badly.

"Seems that way," Victor said, wiping the mix of spittle and booze from his face. He took the glass away, finishing what was left before setting it aside. He smiled sweetly down at Jerome. He did admire his spirit; but he wanted to break him. He brought his knee up into his jaw, quickly catching his head and smashing his face into his. His onslaught was relentless, grabbing Jerome up and kissing him madly before punching him right in the chest.

Jerome was all smiles as Victor's knee smashed into his jaw, letting out a loud laugh as their faces smashed together. Fuck, Victor was definitely on his way to winning. Jerome eagerly returned the feverish kiss, letting out a little grunt as he was slugged hard in the chest.

Victor pushed him back onto the bed, fighting his way on top of him and biting at his cheek. He was tugging at Jerome's pants, his cock still out and at the ready. He reared his arm back, socking Jerome right in the jaw. "That's for wasting my liquor, I have very expensive taste," Victor reprimanded. He leaned down, kissing at the busted spots all over Jerome's face. The bits of raw flesh and blood tasted so sweet. He was still trying to hold back, determined to win this battle of wills.

Jerome pushed and shoved as Victor pinned him down, trying to fight for some sort of control, but his new little plaything was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked. Between Victor tugging at his pants, that punch in the jaw, and all those kisses along the busted up and bleeding spots on his face, Jerome was losing the battle. And losing quickly. He desire for more was beginning to outweigh his will to fight, stubborn little growls being replaced with eager little groans.

Finally, his will broke. At least for this round. He grabbed Victor's jaw, tugging him in for a hungry kiss, sucking at his bloody lower lip. "Please?" be finally forced out, the word feeling foreign on his tongue.

That little 'please' sounded so sweet to Victor's ears. It meant he'd won. He eagerly returned Jerome's kiss, coyly biting at his lower lip. No longer teasing, he got rid of any remaining clothes between them. He spat in his hand, reaching down and fingering Jerome's tight rim. Victor made sure he was slick, positioning his cock ever so carefully and slowly sliding in. He let out a little gasp at that initial thrust, breaking his kiss away and biting Jerome's shoulder.

Jerome was surprisingly grateful for Victor accepting his simple and short little plea, not sure if he would have been able to give more than that. He let out low, pleased little groan as he finally felt Victor sinking into him, his nails digging into the back of his neck at the bite to his shoulder.

Victor settled into a slow and heavy pace, pulling his cock back slowly before ramming it in. He used his hands to tilt Jerome's hips, trying to find that magical spot, trying to send him over the edge of pleasure. He licked the spot on Jerome's shoulder where he'd bit him, nuzzling against him. He loved the smell and taste of it all, he still blown away by how perfect Jerome was.

That slow but rough pace was maddening, in the best sort of way possible. Jerome wrapped a leg up around Victor's waist, helping him find just the right angle that left him seeing stars. Fuck, did he feel good.

Still holding Jerome's hip, he moved one hand up to his throat. He wrapped his fingers around him, biting at his jaw as he began to softly squeeze. He was taking his time, his movements steady but still rough. He was enjoying exploring Jerome's body, confident that since they'd just screwed around earlier that he wouldn't come for a while. His lips brushed up against Jerome's ear, murmuring, "You're so beautiful."

Jerome couldn't help but laugh at the compliment, though he certainly felt the same. Victor was a god damn specimen. "Well, duh," he replied, voice breathless as he continued to rock to meet every thrust.

Victor chuckled at Jerome's snarky response. What a smug little monster. There was no one else like him. He knew there was no going back; he could never be without Jerome, not ever. He knew that he still had to explain all of this to Penguin, but he pushed it off to the back of his mind. He had much more pleasant things to focus on at that moment. His hips started to pick up the pace, the way Jerome was moving his body underneath him to catch every thrust felt so fucking good.

Victor pulled Jerome close, rolling over so that the younger man was now on top of him, eagerly repositioning.

Jerome let out a little "Weee!" as Victor flipped them over, happily taking his position on top of Victor and using it to his full advantage. He angled his hips just right, rolling them down in a rough pace.

Victor grabbed Jerome's hips, rocking him down on his cock as his hips bucked up to fuck him harder. He was panting from all of his efforts, smiling as he looked up at his lover. Some of the blood was drying already, turning a dark brownish red that reminded Victor of the color of Jerome's hair. He groaned softly, pumping his hips harder and grabbing Jerome's cock. He thought that he would last longer, but he was already getting close again.

Fuck, the feeling of Victor's hands on his cock pushed Jerome closer and closer towards the edge, trying his hardest to hold on as long as he could. He never wanted this to end. He was thrilled at the idea that it never had to, Victor was his whenever he pleased.

"Hit me," Victor pleaded suddenly, baring his teeth as he growled. "Hit me fucking hard."

Jerome's face lit up when Victor asked to be hit, looking down at that pretty, pale face as he ran his hand over his cheek for a moment. "So pretty," he commented in a sweet tone, flashing a sweet little grin. But just as quickly as that sweet demeanor appeared, it was gone. It was replaced with that familiar dark look in his eyes, a devious smirk sliding onto his face. "Only because you asked so nicely," he growled, bring his fist down hard across Victor's jaw.

Victor howled when Jerome hit him, blood splashing from his mouth from the impact. The mix of pleasure and pain was exquisite. "Fuck, yes!" he moaned happily. The hit was exactly what he needed, crying out loud as his body shook, coming hard inside him.

The slight and smell of the blood pouring from his mouth, feeling Victor trembling beneath him was all it took to push Jerome over the edge. He crashed his lips down against Victor's, needing to taste that sweet mixture of blood and spit against his lips. His body went tight around Victor's cock as his orgasm hit hard, a riding out each and every overwhelming little shudder. He broke their kiss and nuzzled against his cheek as he groaned loudly, panting hard.

Victor struggled to catch his breath, wiping his hands off on the bed sheets around them. He grinned wide, running his fingers over Jerome's neck and through his hair.

Victor turned Jerome's head, kissing him softly. It tasted so sweet, so warm. He sighed contently, still trying to calm his respirations. He sucked at Jerome's lower lip, smirking as he said, "I really like you. You're all mine now. Mmph."

Jerome was as content as could be in that moment, fighting to catch his breath and all smiles when Victor sucked at his lower lip. He nodded in agreement when he commented that Jerome was his. It was all so fast, but when would Jerome ever meet someone who could hold his interest the way Victor so clearly did? Someone who could match that delightful madness? Jerome was certain no one else ever would.

Victor's eyes grew wide, his brain switching gears and suddenly very excited. "Are you hungry? I can bake cookies. I fucking love baking. Do you want some cookies?"

Jerome immediately perked up at the mention of that wonderful baked treat, excited as could be, exclaiming, "Fuck yeah, I want cookies!"

Victor kissed Jerome's cheek, starting to get up from the bed. He went to his dresser, getting some pajama pants. He threw a pair at Jerome after he put his on. He fixed them both another drink, humming to himself.

Victor didn't even care they were both still completely covered in blood, hopping back on the bed beside Jerome. He offered him the drink, smiling sweetly. He pressed little kisses along his neck and shoulder, completely happy. "We can make peanut butter orrrr chocolate chip, or oooh. I have M&M's. We can make M&M cookies!"

Jerome tugged on the pajama pants that Victor gave him, not bothering with a shirt for now. Certainly they weren't done for the evening. He pondered over what kind of cookies he wanted, about to answer when he heard buzzing from the floor, the song 'Umbrella' suddenly filling the air. It definitely wasn't his phone, but he reached down and grabbed it for Victor, peering at the screen. "Penguin emoji is calling," he commented, handing the phone to Victor.

"Well, shit," Victor groaned, mumbling a few more curse words under his breath. He finished off his drink, shaking his head. He knew this conversation had to happen; he also knew that Penguin would not be pleased. He was probably already pissed; Victor had not checked in and he had certainly been busy for quite some time with Jerome. He took the phone, clearing his throat and cheerfully answering, "Yes?"

"Is it done?" Oswald Cobblepot's voice snapped from the other end of the line, clearly unhappy Victor hadn't called him. His foot was tapping against the ground impatiently, waiting for Victor to answer him. This was all very unlike Victor; not checking in, not confirming. It had definitely put Oswald into a very foul mood.

Victor grimaced when he heard how irritated Penguin sounded. He cleared his throat, saying very carefully, "More or less?" He stood up from the bed, scratching the back of his head as he tried to think of how to explain this. "Things have become... very complicated."

Oswald was furious, there was zero doubt about that. Victor had never once let him down, he was the most reliable assassin in all of Gotham. "What do you mean _complicated_?!" he shouted into the phone, very clearly one wrong word away from having a full blown tantrum.

Jerome was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as Victor searched to find a way to explain to his boss what was going on. He couldn't help but giggle a bit, hearing Oswald shouting from the other end. Come on, it was funny. Victor had been sent to kill him and now? Now he had brought him home like a god damn stray cat. Hilarious.

Victor jerked his head away from the phone when Oswald screamed right in his ear. Yup, he was pissed. Victor neglected his glass and went straight to the bottle of liquor, nursing it before replying, "Yes. Complicated."

Jerome got up from the bed, deciding to poke around the bedroom while he waited. If he was going to be staying here now, he needed to familiarize himself with the place. He poked through a few dresser drawers, delighted to see guns and knives hidden all over the place.

Jerome was like a child sometimes; well, most of the time really. He pulled out a couple of the knives, flipping them open and beginning to juggle them with ease. He was a circus kid, after all. He wandered around the room, whistling to himself, peeking back over at Victor every so often, impatiently waiting for him to finish up on the phone. He wanted those damn cookies.

"The gang responsible for the destruction of your club has been eliminated," Victor was explaining, "But their leader..." His eyes glanced over at Jerome, seeing him juggling the knives. He smirked, trying cover the mouth piece of the phone as he fussed, "Very cute, but don't poke your eye out. We'll have cookies soon, I promise." He cleared his throat, hoping Oswald didn't hear that.

Jerome rolled his eyes, intentionally letting one of the knives get dangerously close to his eye before catching it. He stuck his tongue out childishly at Victor, laughing "I'll poke my eye out if I damn well please."

"But their leader, _what_?!" Oswald hissed, positively seething. He was completely flustered. And wait, did he just hear Victor promising someone cookies? His teeth clashed together, snarling impatiently, " _Victor_?"

"I am going to come see you," Victor finally resolved. "I cannot complete the job. I must speak to you in person. Right now."

Jerome whined over dramatically when Victor said he would be going to see Oswald. Great, now he had to wait even longer for cookies. He was really starting to dislike this Penguin guy. Sending someone to kill him and cutting into his sex and cookie time? Rude.

Oswald was fuming, his small frame shaking with rage. What did he mean everyone but that insufferable little ginger was taken care of? Why couldn't he complete the job? "There better be a damn good explanation, Victor!" he snapped, hanging up the phone and tossing it on the table, letting out an annoyed little shout before going to find Ed to vent, needing to yell at something and Ed was used to his little tantrums.

Victor sighed at Oswald's screaming, wincing at the click as he hung up. He rubbed his forehead, setting his phone down. He walked over to Jerome, kissing his neck softly. "Sorry, baby doll. Gotta go see the boss." He moved his mouth up to his jaw, murmuring, "And you're coming with me. Once Oswald meets you, he'll understand."

Victor looked at all the blood over both of them, adding with a wink, "But maybe a shower first." He smirked playfully, taking Jerome's hand and dragging him into the bathroom. The pajamas were quickly stripped, their naked bodies wrapped up together under the steaming hot water. They were definitely going to be late. Oswald was already mad, what could a little quickie hurt?

After a very enjoyable slick and wet tumble in the shower, Victor got dressed and let Jerome go through his closet to find something to wear. All cleaned up and clothed, they got in his car and drove over to Penguin's mansion.

Jerome was annoyed that they'd had to leave, but significantly less grumpy after their little romp in the shower. Once they were dressed and in the car, Jerome was at least interested to meet this so called King of Gotham. Pft, he would be in for a surprise eventually if Jerome had his way.

Victor glanced in the rear view mirror, smiling at all the bruises across his neck and face. It made him feel so good. Victor was actually a little nervous; what if Oswald didn't understand? He knew he couldn't kill Jerome. He very nearly loved him already. He could leave Gotham if he had to, give Oswald his resignation. He would find a way to make it work.

Victor parked right outside the front door, giving Jerome a stern look. "Try to behave, if at all possible. This needs to go very well and Mr. Penguin is already pretty pissed."

Jerome let out a heavy sigh. "Fiiiine. I'll do my best. No promises," he replied honestly. He would make a genuine effort, but Jerome was Jerome and he couldn't guarantee a thing. Following Victor inside, he gave him a quick little kiss before he disappeared to go find Penguin. Of course, Jerome was trying to behave, trying very hard actually. But Victor had left him alone in a giant mansion. It would not be long before he would just have to start exploring.

It didn't take long to find Penguin. He could hear him screaming all down the hall, tracking the sound to Edward's office. Victor took a deep breath, knocking politely on the door. He was always certain to knock first before ever walking into a room with these two in it, not wanting a repeat of that first time he found out they were a couple. There were some things no one needed to know about the man they worked for; how flexible he was? Definitely one of them.

Oswald hadn't left Ed's office since he'd gotten off the phone with Victor, sitting on his boyfriend's desk while he shifted through paperwork and ranting away. He was absolutely beside himself with anger. Seriously, if he couldn't count on Victor to get the job done, who could he count on.

Edward had listened patiently to Oswald's seething rant while he worked, reaching out and patting his lover's leg to comfort him when he got particularly loud. He was also very surprised that Victor hadn't come through this time. He always came through. He was trying to keep Ozzie calm, but even he knew there were times when his dear boyfriend was set on raging; this was definitely one of those times.

Oswald was still a huffy little bird when Victor knocked at the door, barking out at him to come in. Finally! Now he could get some damn answers!

Victor poked his head into the office, making sure all parties were clothed, slowly stepping in. He smiled shyly, giving a little wave as he said, "Hello, Mr. Penguin. Thank you for seeing me."

Oswald folded his arms over his chest as he turned to look at Victor. He was ready to tear into him but when he opened his mouth to speak, he noticed all the bruises all over his neck and face. Shock quickly took over, he and Ed exchanging a quick look; were those bite marks?

"Are you alright?" Oswald asked, allowing himself to be concerned. Victor, although a little strange, had become a friend, especially after working so hard to fix he and Ed's relationship during their break.

"Oh!" Victor was smiling ear to ear, a faint blush coming over him. "I'm fine! I'm better than fine. I'm so fantastic. Just fantastic." He couldn't hide how happy he was. "I have something very important to discuss with you."

Oswald was relieved, but quickly remembered that he was angry, his eyes narrowing. "You're damn right you have something important to discuss with me. Why isn't that obnoxious little ginger taken care of?"

"Mr. Penguin," Victor began, his tone earnest. "I've worked for you ever since you took over. After Don Falcone retired, I pledged my services to you. I've been nothing if not completely loyal to you. More than once, I've gone above and beyond the call of duty to help you." He came closer, clasping his hands together, almost as if he was praying.

"That little ginger, Jerome, I..." He laughed in spite of himself, he was so happy. It was almost impossible to keep it all in. He shrugged his shoulders, smiling brightly. "I can't kill him. I mean, I 'can', but I won't. You see, I brought him home after I killed his crew. I guess you could say we're sort of dating now? He's moving in with me. Oh, I know it's happening so fast, but. He's just so perfect and... I need you to let me keep him." He looked desperate, his voice even pleading as he said, "Please."

Oswald was stunned. He couldn't really recall Victor ever expressing interest in anyone. He was pretty certain he had just closed himself off to that prospect entirely. His jaw was a bit slack, trying to process it all. He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head.

"What the hell is with you people? Falling in love after a couple hours," Oswald exclaimed, baffled. He ignored Edward rolling his eyes at the dig, hopping down off of the desk and pacing back and forth. This could certainly be an issue. That little ginger shit was causing all sorts of problems for him.

Oswald looked back over at Ed and his resolve definitely softened a little. Sure, they were all certifiable thinking they were in love so damn quickly. But he couldn't imagine being without Ed and if there was anything Oswald had a soft spot for, it was love. He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. "Fine. Okay, fine. But so help me God, Victor! If he takes out one more of my clubs, I won't stand for it," Oswald huffed, giving him a stern look. He did owe Victor quite a lot.

"Thank you," Victor said, completely overjoyed. He sighed in relief. He would have hugged Oswald if he didn't think the little man would slap him. "Thank you so very much. I will never ask you for anything ever again. I promise I will keep him out of trouble. Or at least, you know, I will make sure your properties are left intact. No more fires." He wondered how easy it was going to be to keep that promise; knowing Jerome, maybe not so much.

Edward had smiled softly when Oswald gave in to Victor's request. His boyfriend could be such a sentimental little bird. He looked down at one of his many accounting ledgers, running a few quick numbers in his head. "The damages are over thirty thousand dollars. Your new 'friend' certainly had a fun time."

"He's a fun guy," Zsasz said, smiling. "I will personally cover the expense of repairing the club as a sign of good faith."

Jerome was losing his patience out in the hallway. After snooping around, managing to break some expensive looking vases, and having some crazy maid scream at him in Russian, he couldn't take it anymore. He walked over to the office door, peering inside and looking at Victor, flashing a charming little grin.

"Can I come in yet?" Jerome asked, not waiting for an answer, sauntering into the office and offering out a hand to Oswald, introducing himself, "Hi boss guy, I'm Jerome."

"You brought him to my house?" Oswald groaned, his rage building back up.

"Of course, I brought him," Victor said indignantly. "I wanted you to meet him. He's just amazing, isn't he?" He beamed at his lover proudly.

Edward smiled as he saw the way Victor was looking at Jerome. He knew that look very well. He smirked at Oswald, knowing he had to see it, too. He rested his chin in his hand, sighing, "I can't be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. Of no use to one, but priceless to two."

Oswald took a deep breath, groaning out loud at Ed's riddle and still trying his very hardest to be pleasant for Victor's sake. A tight smile creased his lips, briskly addressing Jerome. "Yes. I know who you are. Nice to meet you," he forced out, no interest in shaking the little weirdo's hand.

Jerome shrugged, withdrawing his hand. He didn't think much of the riddle. He liked riddles if they were funny, but otherwise they took too much time to figure out and he didn't have the patience. He started walking around the office, putting his hands all over the pictures and baubles on the shelf. There were so many books, but none seemed to have any pictures, how boring. Oh! Was that a blood stain on the wall? Oooo, somebody had some fun in here!

Oswald gave Victor a nasty look, making it clear he wasn't happy. He didn't care if they were in love or not, watching that man's little fingers fumbling with his things infuriated him. "Please stop touching things," he said, exasperated.

Jerome looked back over at them, flashing a little grin. "Yeah, you're probably right, Pengy. Sorry about those vases in the hallway, by the way." He grinned, letting out a loud laugh. Respect wasn't really something Jerome was good at.

" _Penguin_ ," Oswald corrected quickly, gritting his teeth. Victor was certainly lucky Oswald liked him.

"I'll be adding those vases to your bill," Edward sighed, making a few notes in the ledger. "Brings the total well over a hundred thousand dollars, depending on how many vases were broken."

"Pretty sure I broke all of them!" Jerome piped up cheerfully.

"One hundred thousand and three hundred twelve dollars," Edward sighed, fidgeting and adjusting his glasses. "And seventy six cents. Quite a high price for something that can't be bought."

"Done," Victor said immediately. The money was a small price to pay to keep this man by his side. He quickly pulled Jerome back over so he wouldn't touch anything else and cause any further damage. He took his hand, smiling. He kissed it, letting his teeth graze over Jerome's knuckles. This was going so great. Well, he lamented, as great as it possibly could.

Jerome couldn't help but giggle when he heard the grand total of the damages he had caused. He and these men were obviously two very different sorts of criminals. This little bird and his riddling sidekick seemed to want order, structure, and money, Jerome just wanted pure and utter chaos. Clearly they would be butting heads. But for now, he allowed himself to be tugged to Victor's side, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning into him.

Oswald was at his wits' end with this little shit, especially after hearing how much money he had cost him. He gritted his teeth, trying his best to just play nice. Aside from Victor being someone he did care about, he wasn't entirely certain if he said the wrong thing that he wouldn't end up shot. The man, even as docile as he could be at times, was still a homicidal monster.

"Don't you worry your pretty little heads, I'll do my best to leave your properties be. Scouts honor," Jerome laughed, grinning wide as he felt Victor's teeth on his knuckles. Yup, he was up for another round of fun. Now that introductions were over, he remembered that he was owed cookies. He had been well behaved enough. "On that note, I was about to get some cookies before your call interrupted, so nice to meet'cha, but time to go."

"Yes. It has been just lovely meeting you," Oswald forced, sitting back on the edge of the desk, grabbing Ed's hand and squeezing it to keep himself from snapping. "Please, don't let us interrupt your evening," he added, more than happy to be rid of that little ginger bastard.

At least Zsasz seemed happy, Oswald thought. Really, really happy. That was what mattered, right? That was what he kept telling himself.

"Thank you, Mr. Penguin," Victor said dutifully. He wiggled his fingers in a little wave, eager for them to take their leave. Victor hurried Jerome out of the office, grabbing his ass and growling playfully. He couldn't wait to get back home. He still didn't know what kind of cookies to bake, but did it even matter? They were going to be together; fuck it, they'd just make all of them!

Edward chuckled lightly, getting out of his chair to come around and stand in front of Ozzie. He kissed him tenderly, saying, "I'm proud of you. Letting love triumph. I've never seen Victor so happy before, even when he's killing people." He nuzzled Oswald's nose, laughing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd dare say you're getting a little soft. It's sweet."

Oswald scowled, but let Edward fuss over him. It was hard to stay mad with all those dear compliments and kisses. He smiled in spite of his anger, shrugging his shoulders as he said, "Perhaps I am. My mother always said you only get one true love; it seems that Victor has found his. Even if it is that monstrous little _thing_."

"Well, I know I've definitely found my one true love," Edward said sweetly. He kissed at boyfriend's neck, something stirred up within him. Maybe it was seeing Victor so excited; Ed felt the same way about Oswald, even if he didn't express it the same way. Perhaps it was Oswald giving the new couple his blessing; there was a deeply romantic side to the his boyfriend and Ed loved when it showed. Whatever the reason, Ed was done crunching numbers for the day and had his mind set on working on something far more pleasant. "How about we go upstairs and I can help you work out some of that frustration?"

Oswald pursed lips together, his rage momentarily forgotten. He had felt his heart flutter when Edward called him his true love. The sentiment that his mother had instilled in him was something he held very dear and believed with all of his heart. When you found your one true love, you ran to it. Granted, he had run ol' what's her name's head into the floor a few times before running to Edward, but ah, details. He wrapped his arms around Edward's neck, kissing him hungrily. "That sounds like a lovely idea."


	3. Gone Clubbin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome loves tagging along with Victor when he has to go out for jobs, but their fun is threatened when Harvey Bullock and Jim Gordon happen to be at the same club.

The bass was making the walls vibrate, the air was thick with the smell of booze and sweat, dance floor packed. It was one of Gotham’s hottest clubs and tonight it was absolutely on fire. Victor Zsasz was here on a professional adventure, his eyes slowly scanning about as he searched for his target. He was debating on doing the deed here; perhaps follow the mark outside, lead him into an alley. Maybe he would follow him home and make his dog watch. He hadn’t decided yet. He’d given the Zsaszettes a break, knowing this job he could easily handle on his own.  
  
He had made his way to the bar, ordering a drink and smiled when the bartender insisted it was on the house. It was good to be infamous in Gotham. The fringe benefits were very nice. He was sipping his drink, looking around the club again. Yes, the job was a solo mission, but he wasn’t here alone. Jerome was here, too.  
  
Now where exactly he was, Victor wasn’t sure. No doubt getting into trouble. That boy was absolutely wild and Victor loved it. The past few days were a tornado of passion and blood and laughter. He had never been so happy in his entire life. He couldn’t stand to be away from him, having him tag along on jobs like this whenever he could. He hated leaving Jerome at home; that ginger could be down right dangerous when he was bored.

Jerome was getting pretty used to not being left alone at the house, generally going along with Victor on his little missions to take down a mark. It was always interesting enough, sometimes Victor was kind enough to even let him have a little fun before completing the job. What a sweetie!

Tonight was extra fun, there were so many people packed into the club and Jerome was more than a little tipsy. Yet another perk to being Zsasz’s little plaything, free drinks! He was in a particularly good mood tonight, that normal homicidal monster dialed back just a bit, more focused on having a good time. He had wandered off for a little while, dancing and drinking, having a grand ol’ time. He was making his way back to the bar when he spotted Victor again, grinning wide.

Without much warning, he pounced onto his back, certain Victor would notice him. He had a sharp eye and there was basically no sneaking up on him, though Jerome was determined to try.

Just out of the corner of his eye, Victor saw his lover creeping up. He smiled, not moving, allowing him to think maybe he’d gotten him this time. Since their first meeting, Victor was determined to never let Jerome get the drop on him again. It had worked out very nicely for the both of them, but for Victor it was a small matter of pride. Plus, it was fun.

Jerome grinned wide as he wrapped his legs around Victor’s waist, arms clinging over his shoulders as he affectionately nipped as his neck, nuzzling his nose along his jaw. “Fancy meeting you here, good lookin’.” he mused, stealing a kiss when Victor’s head turned a bit.

Victor laughed when Jerome pounced, grabbing his legs and squeezing them. He purred happily as Jerome bit at his neck, smiling bright. “Indeed! What a coincidence!” He spun around and tipped back to deposit Jerome down in the bar stool next to him.

Victor ran his hands over Jerome’s knees, kissing him hard, teeth biting at his lower lip. “I feel like it’s been absolutely forever since I saw you last!” he said teasingly, keeping the joke running. It was one of his favorite things about Jerome; all the laughter they shared.  
  
Jerome wrapped his calves around Victor’s thighs and drawing him in closer. He happily returned the kiss, letting out a little growl into the kiss as he bit at his lower lip. “Oh, ages,” Jerome agreed with a hearty laugh.

The mark still hadn’t shown up yet, so Victor felt pretty sure he had some time to kill. He definitely had more drinks to enjoy. He waved at the bartender for another round, finishing off his glass and setting it back on the bar. He smirked at Jerome, asking lightly, “Have you been having fun, baby doll?”

Grinning ear to ear, his hands coming up to rest on Victor’s hips, roaming a bit, Jerome nodded enthusiastically. “I’m having a blast! I’d be having more fun with you.” He pouted, fingers slipping just below Victor’s shirt to roam over his stomach.

Victor sighed as he felt Jerome’s fingers exploring his stomach, a bit of heat starting to stir up in his loins. “It is true, I am a very fun fellow! The fucking funnest!” He grunted softly, readjusting his pants. Jerome had that effect on him, even without trying.  
  
“What’s the point of being here and not dancing? Wouldn’t want anyone trying to appreciate all this, right?” he teased, motioning to himself. “Sure, you have to kill a guy, but that should only take like, five minutes tops.”   
Victor chuckled, raising a sleek brow as he said, “If anyone tries to ‘appreciate’ you in front of me, I will very much ‘appreciate’ their fingers into pieces under my boot.”  
  
Jerome was drunk and wanted Zsasz all to himself. He had been left to his own devices for a whole fifteen minutes and he had promised to try his best not to cause any problems. He reached up and took Victor’s hand, kissing over his knuckles before hopping down off of the barstool. “C'mon. I’m bored,” he nodded, dragging Victor away from the bar.

Victor wasn’t much of a dancer, at least out in public. He was into dancing around his apartment in his pajamas, not so much in a crowded club. But how could be resist Jerome? He just fucking couldn’t. Victor groaned loudly in protest, making a big show of it, but still letting Jerome pull him away from the bar. There was no sign of the target yet. Still okay. He narrowed his eyes at Jerome, saying with a smirk, “Just one dance!”  
  
Jerome didn’t understand the difference between dancing at home or in public; if anything, if was more fun in public. When Victor groaned in protest, a devious little smirk spread on Jerome’s face. He could certainly convince his boyfriend to enjoy himself. “Just one, huh? Guess I’ll have to make it count then, won’t I?” he said, his tone overly innocent and sweet.

As they got closer towards the dance floor, Jerome noticed an empty chair at a table near by. Without a second thought, he shoved Victor down into it hard, putting a hand on his chest to make it clear he wasn’t allowed to get up. He settled himself so he his legs were on either side of one of Victor’s thigh.  Jerome may have been absolutely batshit insane, but that boy knew how to move. He would be making damn sure Victor was never opposed to dancing with him in public again.

Victor let out a little surprised “oof” when Jerome pushed him down into the chair. He frowned, just a tad annoyed, and started to stand back up but that hand in his chest told him to stay put. What was his lover boy doing?   
  
Without a word, Jerome stole a kiss and let his hips start to move along to the beat, slowly just swaying at first.

The quick kiss helped convince Victor to stay seated, smiling slyly as it seemed Jerome was going to put on a show for him. He tilted his head, his eyes glued to Jerome as he started to move his body.  
  
Jerome let his hands roam down his own chest and stomach, in time with a body roll all the way from his shoulders to his hips. His hands ran down over his hips, sinking down just low enough so his ass just barely touched Victor’s thigh.

Victor watched his hands sliding down over himself, his hips rocking. And fuck, when his ass grazed over over his leg? What a fucking tease. He knew that Jerome had some moves. He had tangled with him enough in the bedroom to know that. But this, Victor wasn’t quite prepared for.

Victor tried to reach out and grab Jerome’s hip, fully aware that one of the first rules of a lap dance was not touching the dancer. He didn’t care, he wanted him so terribly and he hated being teased so,  
  
Jerome looked Zsasz in the eye a moment, shaking his head as he shoved Victor’s hand away. Nope, he wasn’t allowed to touch just yet. But that didn’t mean Jerome couldn’t touch. He turned his back to the other, leaning back against him and slowly bringing his body down into Victor’s lap, grinding his ass down in his lap painfully slowly, his hands forcefully keeping Victor’s at his side.

Victor groaned softly as Jerome started grinding against him, his hands struggling to stay down. He couldn’t take his fucking eyes off of him, watching his hips move so deliciously. He had never seen something so damn sexy in his life and it was all his. He was already starting to get hard and it was only getting worse.

Jerome let his back rest against his boyfriend’s chest, leaning his head back against his shoulder, nipping at his earlobe, lips just barely brushing against it as he spoke. “Having fun? I could always stop,” he taunted, his hips rolling down into Victor’s lap, taking his time. This was so much fun. Who cared if they were undoubtedly drawing a bit of attention? Jerome was having _way_ too much fun making his lover squirm.

When Jerome arched back to bite at his ear, that was when he was at full attention, biting his lip anxiously. His erection was painful, pressed tight against the fabric of his pants.  He tried to lean in for a kiss, but Jerome denied him, the feisty redhead fucking out of the way at the last moment. He hissed in frustration, “Ohhh, don’t you dare stop.”

Several club goers had taken notice of the pair, a few whistling and cheering them on. Jerome was really quite a fantastic dancer. Victor didn’t mind sharing him like this; he didn’t care if anyone watched, but God fucking helping them if they tried to touch him.

Victor licked his lips, his pelvis ever so slightly rising up into Jerome. It was so hard not to jump up and fuck him right there over that chair in front of everyone. He wanted him to feel just how crazy he was making him feel.

The frustration in Victor’s voice just made Jerome all that much eager, loving every last second of having power in their constant little exchange. Jerome almost always gave in first, not having near the patience Victor did. But he was determined to break him this time. He felt his lover’s hips pushing up just enough to feel exactly how hard he was, letting out a pleased little hum.

Jerome flipped around in his lap, draping his arms around Victor’s shoulders. He managed to settled his knees on either side of the chair, slowly grinding down into his lover’s lap. He leaned in, letting his lips trail over Victor’s jaw, biting hard enough for him to feel it, but not their usual rough play.

Victor was quickly losing himself in the rolls of Jerome’s hips,  all those soft nips on his jaw were driving him insane. He wanted him to bite him, to make him bleed. Those little nibbles were nothing but a horrible tease. His hands were aching to grab onto him, leaning his body into him.   
  
Things were really starting to heat up, Jerome’s entire focus on Victor. Then some poor, poor bastard decided to slap Jerome’s ass as he was walking by. Jerome’s attention quickly snapped to the guy walking away, eyes narrowed as he got out of Victor’s lap.

Victor was already on his feet the second Jerome moved, growling in rage. Some fucking bastard, some idiot, dared to smack the sweet ass of his plaything? Victor saw red immediately.   
  
Jerome grabbed the guy by the back of his shirt, putting on a sweet smile for a moment before shoving him back towards Victor, knowing he didn’t need to say a word, practically panting as he watched closely, waiting for Victor to unleash.  
  
Victor caught the man as Jerome shoved him, his hands grabbing his arm and twisting it back with a loud crack as it broke. “The fuck are you thinking!” he growled, giving him a hard shake, the man crying out in pain and anguish as his arm flopped around loosely. “Don’t you ever touch him! He is _mine_!” He grabbed a hold of his shirt, punching him in the face relentlessly. He couldn’t see anything else except blood and meat and he kept hitting and hitting him.

Elsewhere in the club, Harvey Bullock and Jim Gordon were hanging out at one of the many bars. They were off duty for the night and Jim had been absolutely going nuts being trapped at the apartment recovering from his injury. He had finally convinced Harvey to go out for the evening and there they were.

The club was supposed to be a real hot spot and so far it was not disappointing. The music was great and the drinks were strong. Harvey was sipping a Jack and Coke, looking up as he heard a bit of commotion on the other side of the bar near the dance floor.

Jim perked up, hearing the uproar. They’d actually been having a good night. It was the first time Jim had been out of the house for anything other than to pick up some food since he’d taken that bullet in the side. Clubs weren’t their usual choice, but it had been highly recommended and Jim had to admit he was enjoying himself. But of course, a fight had to break out.

Harvey gave Jim a look, _that look_ , that look that said don’t you dare go over there and investigate because we’re supposed to be off tonight. “I know you’re thinking it. Stay here and drink with me,” he pleaded, knowing it was probably no use.

Jim felt bad for a moment when Harvey gave him that look, but Jim knew damn well he couldn’t just ignore it. He was completely incapable. He gave Harvey a quick kiss, offering an apologetic little grin. “I’ll make it up to you, promise,” he said, finishing off his drink before heading over to the commotion.

As he approached, working his way through the crowd that had gathered, Jim heard a laugh; a very familiar laugh that shook him down to his core.  
Jerome had been watching Victor savagely tear into the poor bastard who had been stupid enough to put his hands on him. He was laughing loudly as the poor sap got his face beaten in, holding his stomach from laughing so hard. It certainly wasn’t doing anything to help how worked up he was. God, was Victor beautiful while he was unleashing hell on the poor bastard.

But Jerome’s good time was quickly halted when he felt his arm roughly pulled behind his back and he was shoved into the nearest wall face first.

Jim didn’t know what the hell was going on, he saw Jerome die. He saw his corpse. How the fuck was he here? It didn’t matter, he belonged in Arkham. He reached for his handcuffs on instict, hissing in annoyace. Of course, he didn’t have them.

Harvey, always a few steps behind, came stumbling up. He watched Jim throw someone against the wall, catching a flash of red hair. His eyes went wide. “No fucking way.” He went to reach for his gun, hesitating to draw, looking around nervously. This was the worst possible place for this to go down. It could not possibly get any fucking worse.  
  
Jerome peeked back at Jim, flashing a charming grin. “Hey there, Jimbo!” he greeted pleasantly, looking over to Victor, who was just about finished up. “Victor! Would ya kindly?” he called out, flashing a smirk. Jerome knew full well he would be completely fine with his ever so perfect boyfriend keeping an eye out for him. Jim Gordon clearly had no idea what was coming his way.

Victor’s chest from heaving from his bloodlust, dropping the poor bastard down to the floor. He watched as a few of the guys’ friends came to drag him away, all yelling and crying. Victor sneered contemptuously, his temper already raging. He heard Jerome calling his name. He whirled around and he saw Jim Gordon with his dear toy pressed up against the wall.

Oh, fuck no. Victor whipped out his gun, slamming the barrel right into the back of Jim’s head. Victor was in no fucking mood. He crept up close so onlookers wouldn’t see the gun in the darkness; he wasn’t stupid and he didn’t want to cause any more of a scene than he already had. “Oh, hi there, Jim!”

Harvey was wrong. Yup. It got worse. Victor Zsasz. Oh, fucccccck. Harvey put his hand on his gun, ready to draw at any second. He could see that Victor’s gun was pointed right at his partner’s fucking head. He was fucking terrified. What in the actual fuck was going on here. “Why doesn’t he ever listen to me?” he mumbled to himself, wishing he and Jim were still sitting back at the damn bar.  
  
Jim froze when he felt the barrel of Victor’s gun pressed to the back of his head. Fuck. He had been so consumed with going after that psycho little ginger that he hadn’t even realized that it had been Victor beating that poor guy. Oh god. They were friends? Just what he needed.   
  
Victor dug the barrel in Jim’s scalp, smiling savagely. “It’s so nice to run into you, Jimmy. Great club, right? Look, I’m going to need you to let go my little friend or he’s gonna know what your brains taste like since they’ll be splattering all over his face in a few seconds.“

Harvey’s presence behind him did not unnoticed. Victor, always packing two guns, flipping his jacket back to put his hand on the second one. Still not drawing yet, but preparing if Harvey made a move he didn’t like. They both knew that Victor was faster. "Tick tock, I’m getting a wee bit impatient, Jim. And I’m already in a really, really bad mood.”  
  
Jerome, ever the arrogant little imp, let out a taunting, low little, “Ha ha ha,” knowing it was getting under Jim’s skin. He wasn’t the least bit afraid with Victor right there.

Jerome’s laughter made Jim angrier, but he realized pretty quickly he had no choice but to comply. If there was one thing Gotham didn’t need, it was Jerome back. His little cult following was already causing enough problems. But he knew tonight, there was no getting the drop on him with Victor keeping an eye on him, especially in the foul state he was in.

Jim gritted his teeth, letting go of Jerome and putting his hands up, making it clear he wasn’t going to draw his gun as he backed up towards Harvey. He frowed at the assassin, shaking his head. Didn’t he work for Oswald? Oswald could not be on board with that little redheaded monster running around, could he?  
Jerome grinned wide, practically skipping over to Victor’s side and pressing an appreciative little kiss to his cheek. God, good in the sack and incredibly handy. He was so lucky. “Thanks, kitten,” he purred, nuzzling against his cheek, hooking an arm around his waist before turning his attention back to Jim.  
Jim blinked. Was that a kiss? Fuck, not another monster couple.

“Bet you’re surprised to see me! !” Jerome laughed. Oh! Jim’s little partner was here too! He waved over at Harvey excitedly. What fun! “It’s so crazy, right? Spent some time at Indian Hill after that whole, stabbed to death thing. Fixed me right on up, good as new!” He cackled loudly, taking such a sick pleasure in the looks on the detectives’ faces.

Of course, Jim thought sourly to himself. Indian Hill explained everything; even now, the repercussions of Hugo Strange’s work were still quite palpable all over the city of Gotham.

Victor laughed, looping his arm over Jerome’s shoulders as he put his gun away. What a happy little reunion! All the familiar faces back together again. He smirked at Jim, seeing the look of utter frustration on his face and absolutely loving it. There wasn’t a thing that Jim or Harvey could do as long as he was here. They wouldn’t dare.

Jerome turned his attention back to Victor, satisfied he was safe from the GCPD for the night. “C'mon, handsome. We were having such a good time,” he said, giving a little wave to Jim and Harvey before wandering off towards the back of the club. He was headed towards one of the bathrooms, knowing Victor would follow. They did have unfinished business after all.  
  
Jim glanced to Harvey, everything in his gut telling him that they should have taken them both out right then and there, but he knew tonight wouldn’t be his night. There were too many people here, too much of a chance that something would go wrong. “Relax, Zsasz. I’ll let him go…for now,” he said, the words physically painful to say.  
  
Victor had been watching Jerome’s ass as he walked away, not paying attention to Jim any more until he heard him speak. That sounded almost like a threat. He furrowed his brows in a look of surprise, stepping up to Jim. He got right in his face, his eyes burning into Jim’s. “For now?” He peered down at him, smiling sweetly as they were almost nose to nose. “For now, you say?”

When Zsasz approached, Harvey tensed up. He moved right beside Jim, trying to show his support. But to be perfectly honest, Victor Zsasz scared the shit out of him. He was like the fucking boogeyman. Harvey knew very well what that man was capable of and he knew they weren’t a match for him, not like this; maybe not ever. Regardless, he wasn’t about to leave Jim’s side. They were partners! Okay, more than partners. Whatever the fuck they were. He stared Victor down, but the assassin didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Let me make something very clear to you. I’ll use small words so you understand,” Victor said slowly, as if he was speaking to a child. “Jerome is mine now. He belongs to me. If you ever touch him again, I will kill you. You don’t get to be the big hero this time, Jimmy. You don’t get to take the little crazy guy back to Arkham, not now, not ever. Besides…” He grinned maliciously, adding with a loud laugh, “How do you expect to arrest a dead man?” He waved his fingers in a little good bye wave, walking backwards for a few steps before turning around, hurrying off to find where Jerome had gone to.

Once he was gone, Harvey laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder, letting out a sigh. He leaned close, daring to place a little kiss on his partner’s cheek. He shook his head, still in disbelief at what they had just witnessed. Jerome, back from the dead, and apparently running around playing hide the damn pickle with Victor Zsasz. “Fuck me running, is there like a fucking freak dating website we don’t know about? This is getting fuck all ridiculous.”   
  
Jim was seething by the time Victor wandered off, his hands balled into fists at his side. But he knew better than to try anything, he would just end up dead. This wasn’t the time. When he felt Harvey’s hand and that kiss, he calmed down a little bit. He let out a heavy sigh, turning to face him. “What the fuck? I think I may actually move,” he sighed, knowing he didn’t mean it. Jim couldn’t walk away even if he wanted to. With a sigh, he took Harvey’s hand and lead him back to the bar, ordering another round of drinks. Fuck, did he need it.

“Move?” Harvey laughed. “Yeah, fucking right! I’ll believe that when I see it. You get off on this crazy shit and you know it.” He gave Jim’s hand a squeeze as they walked. He knew that it was Jim’s nature to right wrongs, save the day, and all that. He wanted to be a hero. But this was Gotham; the city that never stops fucking shit up. He leaned on the counter, nudging his partner’s arm. “How about we finish these and head home? Place is starting to stink like it’s got crazy all over it.”

Jim let out a heavy little sigh, knowing Harvey was right. He would stay in Gotham even if it burned to the ground. Jim could never walk away from this city. It would have been against his very nature. Thankfully, Harvey provided an easy out to leave and try to enjoy the rest of their night.  He chugged back his drink, clapping a hand on Harvey’s shoulder as he said, “I couldn’t agree more.”  
  
Jerome had found the most secluded bathroom the he could, hiding behind the door and waiting for Victor to show up. He absolutely loved their games of cat and mouse; and he knew Victor did, too.

Victor crept into the bathroom, pretty sure he could hear a little something as he carefully opened the door. His eyes flickered sideways, thinking perhaps he heard a small giggle. He smiled, enjoying the anticipation.

Jerome made his move, pouncing on him from behind. He knew he probably didn’t actually catch him off guard, but it was still fun to try.

Jerome placed a few eager little bites along the side of his neck, not breaking skin quite yet. He grinned, nuzzling his nose just below his ear. “Has anyone ever told you you’re _super_ sexy when you break a guy’s arm and then get all big and bad with the cops? Because you are,” he mused, nipping and tugging at his earlobe.

Victor laughed as Jerome jumped on him, leaning his head back to allow his toy more access to his neck as he bit at his flesh. “Mmm, oh, really?” he laughed at his question.

“Uh huh!” Jerome lowered himself down off of Victor’s back, lifting himself up onto the countertop of the sink, using his legs to draw his boyfriend in close, draping his arms over his shoulders, cradling the back of his head and pulling him in for a much needed kiss.

Victor eagerly returned the kiss, his tongue seeking out Jerome’s. Fuck, what a night. His hands ran over his lover’s sides and hips, grinning. He murmured against his lips, “I’ll have to do it more often then.”   
  
Victor’s fingers started digging in hard. That lap dance had done a fuck of a number on him and the rush of beating that guy up? Tangling with Jim Gordon? Victor didn’t think his erection had dropped even for a second. This was all too fucking exciting. There was a part of him that worried; what if Jerome had been alone? What if Jim had tried to take him? Victor’s kiss became more desperate, hungry.

Well, if it ever came to that, Victor had never broken into Arkham before. First time for everything.

Jerome’s tongue eagerly darted out to meet Victor’s, able to taste a hint of blood left over on his lips from beating that guy senseless. He let out a pleased little groan as his play thing’s fingers dug into his hips, pulling his body flush against his own, pressing their hips together with a pleased little grunt. He let his hips grind in a painfully slow rhythm, still up for a bit of teasing.

As much as Jerome was ready to get down to business, he decided that Victor still needed to work for it. It was entirely too much fun pushing him to his limits. Just as quickly as it began, Jerome managed to worm his way out from beneath Victor, hopping down to the floor like nothing had happened. “Well, that was fun. Thanks, handsome,” he said with a shrug, walking towards the door like he was going to leave.

It Victor wanted him that badly, he was gonna have to take it.  
Victor was so caught up in Jerome’s body, the sweet taste of him, it actually took a few seconds for it to register that he had left him dead blue balled as hell. “The fuck?!” It didn’t matter that he had done the same thing to Jerome before; Victor was pissed. He had just beat some bitch senseless, threatened the GCPD. He was ready to throw down some fucking dick and being denied infuriated him.

Victor punched the wall, tiles shattering, his knuckles splitting open and blood gushing out. He whirled around, roughly snatching Jerome and slammed his body weight against his, pushing him up against the wall. His arm was hooked around Jerome’s neck, hand at his jaw, blood dripping down from his busted hand.

As Victor’s fist shattered the tile of the wall, Jerome knew for certain he had made the right decision. Jerome smirked to himself, his hand almost at the door hand when Victor whipped around and pinned him against the wall. Yup. Definitely the right decision. He was already panting from the heat over it all, the arm around his throat, his jaw gripped so tightly and the feeling of Victor’s body flush against his own. It made it all well worth the wait.

Victor bit at the back of his neck, purring softly, “And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His other hand snaked around Jerome’s stomach, fingers fumbling to get his pants undone. He used his weight, his strength, to keep him pinned there.

“I mean, I _was_ planning on going back out there,” Jerome replied smugly, his tongue venturing out to run over Victor’s bloody knuckles.

Once Jerome’s pants were loose, Victor slowly slid his fingers down just past the hem of his underwear, reaching to brush over the head of his cock. “We are soooo not fucking done here.”

Jerome groaned at the feeling of Victor’s fingers dancing over his cock, his back arching to press his ass back against his lover’s erection through his jeans.

Victor buried his face against Jerome’s neck, feeling his lover’s ass perking up against his hips. He felt relief that the battle was finally over, they were finally going to have sex, but oh, he was wrong.

Ever the terrible little shit, Jerome did start to put up a bit of a struggle, trying his very hardest to use his arms against the wall to shove Victor off of him, bringing his elbow back hard into his side.

That elbow made Victor groan, drawing in his breath in a sharp hiss. He almost let go, but was determined to hold tight. He thrust his hips forward, his resolve even stronger. “You aren’t going anywhere until I’m fucking done with you,” he growled, his fingers dipping into his mouth and sucking them quickly.

Jerome let out a breathless groan as the he was shoved even harder against the wall, already feeling the bruises forming on his hips from the force. God damn it, he really needed to test Victor’s patience way more often.

Victor’s lubricated hand went down the back of Jerome’s pants, seeking out his tight hole. One finger slipped in, then two, slowly working inside of him as Victor chomped down on Jerome’s neck. Fuck, even fingering him felt fucking good.

Between his play thing’s fingers working into him and that rough bite, Jerome was finally ready to give in, certain he couldn’t go another moment without feeling Victor inside of him.

Victor bit harder, finally tasting blood, lapping it up as he continued to fuck Jerome with his hand. “You’re _mine_. And I fucking want you, so badly.” He grinded his hips into his ass, feeling sure his hungry cock was already weeping against the inside of his pants.

“Then just shut up and take what you want already.” Jerome growled, reaching an arm behind his back and forcefully wedging it between them, tearing at Victor’s belt, all but ripping his jeans open, trying his best to shove them down and out of the way. He could only do so much so forcefully shoved into the wall with no way to free himself, Jerome was entirely at Victor’s mercy.

Victor was more than happy to help when he felt Jerome’s hands clawing at his pants. He let them drop down to his ankles, hitching Jerome’s down as well. His voice snaked out into his lover’s ear, “Better hold onto something.” He grabbed his cock, wedging it up between Jerome’s thighs, finding that sweet wet hole. His arm tightened around Jerome’s neck, kissing his cheek softly, and then he slammed into him. He started fucking him so hard his hips were smacking against the wall. He couldn’t help himself; all the teasing and building up, Zsasz couldn’t hold back any more.

Jerome always felt so good. Victor kept biting at his neck, his voice hoarse as he said, “I never wanna stop fucking you.”

Jerome was a desperate mess, Victor’s arm right around his throat only making him all that much more hungry for him. Each thrust sent his hips crashing against the wall, not bothering to brace himself in the slightest, not even sure he could if he tried. His jaw went slack, letting out choked little groans with each thrust, almost overwhelmed at how amazing Victor’s cock felt inside of him.

“Never want you to stop,” Jerome panted out, his own hand reaching down and taking his cock into his hand, stroking in time with each rough thrust. Fuck, he couldn’t imagine anything better than this if he tried. Thank God for grumpy little Penguin taking that hit out on him, otherwise he may have never met his beautiful little monster.

Victor held him close as he rammed into him, taking in every sound and every smell and every taste. Nothing could compare to how it felt to be inside Jerome. There were so many emotions running through him, but the one that kept returning was the thought of Jerome being taken away. Never, he swore to himself. He would never lose him. He couldn’t live without him.

He knew he was getting close, moaning against Jerome’s neck and his hips moving even more savagely. He licked Jerome’s flesh, kissing and gnawing hungrily. He didn’t want to ever imagine any second that didn’t include Jerome, his heart welling up with emotion. “You’re never leaving me,” Victor said, embracing him madly and hugging him tight. “Never!”

Jerome was caught a bit off guard by the sudden surge of emotion from Victor. Even if he didn’t really know how to properly return the sentiment, he knew that he felt the same. He couldn’t imagine being without Victor. He let his free arm wrap around his lover’s around his waist, tilting his head to affectionately nuzzle against his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever,” he replied, surprisingly softly, hoping to reassure him.

Jerome’s hips rocked back to meet every last thrust, getting closer and closer every time Victor’s cock hit just the right spot inside of him. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, a few more thrusts and he was spent, coming hard all over his hand and the wall, crying out loudly as his whole body shuddered from the force of it.  
  
Hearing Jerome say those words was exactly was Victor needed. They were monsters, it was true, but even monsters had feelings and Victor’s feelings for Jerome were infinitely passionate. Maybe it was because he was crazy; he didn’t know any other way to love something than to obsess and devour it. Having it confirmed that Jerome felt the same made his heart flutter. When his toy’s arm wrapped around his, Victor desperately thrusted into him, his own climax coming fast.

Victor bit down on Jerome’s shoulder, crying out his name against his flesh as he came, his body trembling with every last shudder. For a few moments, he just stood there, pressed against him. His knees felt wobbly and he feared he might fall if he tried to take a step. He kissed Jerome’s neck, smiling wickedly. “You know, I still have someone here to kill.”  
  
Jerome was using the wall and Victor’s arms around him to hold himself up on shaky legs, panting softly to catch his breath. He lazily reached out for the paper towel dispenser, pulling a couple out to wipe off his hand. Smiling at the kiss to his neck, Jerome chuckled and tilted his head back to press a kiss to Victor’s cheek.

“Well, shit. I’m gonna be honest, I completely forgot that was why we were here. With all the stranger beating and cop threatening.” He giggled, nudging Victor back after finally catching his breath, turning himself around so he was facing Victor, fixing his own pants before helping his lover with his. Jerome stole a kiss, letting it linger a moment before giving his lip a playful little bite. “C'mon, you’ve got a mark to catch and I would just love to watch.”

Jerome really didn’t have any sort of healthy, normal way to express affection. He didn’t know if he was capable. But he knew he was entirely obsessed with Victor and had no desire to be without him. Being around Victor made everything more exciting, more twisted and fuck, the sex? Mind blowing. Jerome could never go back to being without him.

Victor smiled as Jerome helped him get his pants back up, belting them back into place with a little laugh. “Gotta go make that money, you know. Liquor and cookies aren’t free, sadly.” He kissed his plaything back happily, grinning at the bite, reaching down and squeezing his butt. Fuck, he was so damn lucky. “And I would love to show you. Let’s go.” He took Jerome’s hand, pressing a sweet kiss to it, and headed back out into the club. Now he was back into attack mode, eyes scanning the crowds for his target.

There, he spotted him out on the dance floor. Short, stocky, gyrating away on some very uninterested looking woman. He turned back to Jerome, smiling mischievously. “Care to dance?”

Jerome was downright giddy as they made their way back into the crowded club, loving when he got to see Victor in action. When Victor asked him to dance, Jerome made an over exaggerated shocked face, holding a hand up to his chest. “Why, Mr. Zsasz, I thought you would never ask!”

Victor kept hold of his hand, leading him out towards the throng of people dancing away. He slowly began to slide his way towards him, keeping Jerome close. He put his hands on his hips, moving his hips to the beat. He wasn’t quite the dancer that Jerome was, but his wiggle had a little style. He nodded towards the little short man, letting Jerome know that the target. He smiled, waggling his eyebrows. He leaned in close to Jerome, his lips brushing over his ear as he whispered, “Are you ready?”

As Victor’s lips brushed against his ear, a dark, devious little smirk spread across Jerome’s lips. “Always ready, kitten,” he replied, an excited shiver running down his spine. He looked over at Victor’s mark, knowing immediately that he didn’t stand a shred of a chance against his little monster. Jerome gave his jaw a quick little nip, grinning eagerly, purring into his ear “Go get him, gorgeous.”

Victor chuckled softly, smiling at his little plaything. He was too perfect. He began to sway away from him, getting closer to his mark. From his pocket, he withdraw a small knife; it could barely be called a knife, it was so thin it was almost like a needle with a small plastic cap over the tip. Poison, incredibly powerful. He removed the cap in his pocket, palming the thin knife in his hand so it couldn’t be seen.

The woman was the mark was dancing on was getting annoyed, shouting something about not being interested. The man was persisting. Victor came up behind him like a snake, grabbing his shoulder, the knife pricking through his shirt as he called out, “I don’t think the young lady likes the way you mambo!” He laughed softly, tugging the man away and whispered in his ear, “Enjoy your last few seconds of life. Mr. Penguin says toodle-loo!”  
  
Jerome had watched Victor slink away towards his mark, intrigued by the tiny knife. Not Victor’s usual course. His curiosity was definitely peaked. When he saw the man start convulsing, it sunk in what Victor had done. Clever little minx. Jerome cackled loudly, clapping his hands, just so amused, watching the man struggle to keep himself up before hitting the floor.   
  
Foam started to bubble up from the man’s mouth as he collapsed. The woman who he had been grinding on started screaming, hysterical. No one seemed to notice at first; the music was so loud and the floor so crowded, the man was quickly lost in the shuffle of feet on the floor. Victor backed away quickly finding Jerome and grabbing his waist tight. He playfully nipped at Jerome’s neck, laughing, “Time to go, baby doll.”

With his plaything’s arm back around his waist, Jerome was grinning ear to ear, nuzzling against Victor’s cheek. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.” he grinned, taking hand as he stole a quick kiss. What fun his perfect little monster was! Jerome was skipping out the door, tugging Victor along with him as they made their way to his car.

Once they got to it, he wrapped his arms around the others waist, pulling him in close and pressing affectionate kisses to his lips, nipping at his lip happily. He was as happy as could be; a lap dance, possessively fueled beating, a scuffle with Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock, mind blowing sex, _and_ a poisoning? What an evening!


	4. The Old Song and Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The affair between Victor and Jerome is going wonderfully, but their happiness is put in peril when Jerome disobeys Victor's wishes.

After a typical night full of their usual rough, bloody sex before bed, Jerome had slept in much later than usual. He woke up naked under the covers, his face stuck to his pillow from the dried blood on his face, patting the empty bed beside him to find Victor. His eyes fluttered open when he smelled breakfast cooking from the kitchen, realizing that was where his little monster must have gone to. With a yawn and a stretch, he finally sat up, his usual energy kicking in after a couple minutes of stretching, hopping out of bed, tugging on a pair of discarded pajama pants and his robe, humming to himself.

Victor had woken up early and snuck ever so quietly out of bed. He glanced down at the sheets, thinking maybe they were due for a wash; they were crusted in various streaks of blood and other fun bodily fluids. He smirked; what could he say, he and Jerome had a very healthy love life. He threw on some boxer shorts and wandered into the kitchen. He had a cup of coffee, then another cup, started a third cup, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and decided to start on breakfast.

He ran a hand through his messy red hair, sauntering out of the bedroom still humming to himself. Jerome's face lit up when he saw Victor across the apartment in the kitchen. Toast was in the oven, eggs and bacon were cooking away at the stove, Victor looking positively adorable. What better way to greet his boyfriend than to serenade him terribly, loudly and in different voices? Jerome couldn't think of one. 

Ever the showman, Jerome hopped up onto one of the kitchen table chairs, his arms gesturing out broadly at his sides. " _Do ya need a break from a modern livin'? Do you long to shed your weary load? If your nerves are raw and your brain is fried_ ," he sang loudly, imitating Goofy's voice, hopping up onto the table and hopping down to link his arm with Victor's, dragging him away the stove, grinning wide as he spun him around.

Victor was laughing. He absolutely loved these impromptu shows. All the different voices and expressions; in another life, his love toy could have been a great actor. He swatted at Jerome when he pulled him away from the stove, chuckling. Anyone else interrupting him, even doing something as mundane as cooking, would have gotten their lip split. But this was his lover and he knew he couldn't ever resist that boyish charm.

" _Just grab a friend and take a ride, togetherrr upon the open rooad. Come on, Maxy_!" He added in a little 'hyuck' before folding his arms over his chest and putting on an annoyed looking face, changing the voice he was singing in. " _All in all, I'd rather have detentionnnn, all in all, I'd rather eat a toad. And the old man drives like such a klutz, that I'm about to hurl my guts, directly upon the roaaadd,_ " he sang loudly, giggling and pressing a kiss to Victor's cheek. 

"Goooood morning," Jerome cooed. He smiled happily, done with his little morning performance. He had grown up in a traveling circus, the byproduct of a blind fortune teller and a snake lady after all, he couldn't help himself sometimes.

Victor pulled Jerome in for a sleepy kiss, lazily slipping his tongue against his, nuzzling his neck as he mumbled, "Good morning. How did you sleep?" 

Jerome let his tongue brush back against Victor's, smiling brightly as he felt his lover nuzzle into his neck. "Slept great, your bed is super comfy." He mused, still adjusting to all the nice things around the apartment. He had grown up in a camper, so this was great. 

Victor smirked, picking at some of the dried blood on his face. "Maybe after breakfast we should shower." 

Jerome rubbed at the blood on his cheek, laughing. "Maybe a shower isn't the worst idea," he chuckled, his arms wrapping around Victor's waist, walking him back towards the stove, grabbing a little piece of scrambled egg and popping in his mouth. 

Jerome never really expected any sort of normalcy in his life, like a steady place to live or even anything more than a one night stand. Living with Victor, while they were far from normal, had been a nice surprise. It hadn't been long, but he couldn't picture himself anywhere else now.

"Stop!" Victor scolded, smacking at his hand dipping into the eggs. "They're not done yet. You'll get worms or something." He picked up the spatula, giving it another threatening wave, and tended to his cooking. There was something so wonderfully normal about this; making breakfast, waking up with someone. It was nice. Victor opened the oven, bending down to get the toast.

Jerome rubbed at his hand, flashing a big charming grin, giving his ass a playful little smack in response when he bent over. "They're done enough," he mused, though he listened and stepped away to let Victor finish cooking. He lifted himself up onto the counter top, swinging his legs while he waited and watched his little monster cook. He was surprised at how happy something as simple as watching Victor make breakfast made him.

Victor poured more coffee for himself, making sure to keep his cup out of reach. Jerome didn't need coffee. The eggs were finally done to Victor's satisfaction, dishing them along with the bacon and toast. He finished fixing up the plates, even adding a few strawberries. He already had butter, jam, and a pitcher of juice out waiting on the table. 

While Victor was bringing their plates over to the table, Jerome snuck a couple sips from his cup, hoping Victor wouldn't notice. He was naturally an overly energetic person; he was borderline insufferable with too much caffeine in his system, but damn did he love coffee. "You know," Jerome said, licking his lips, "We could be extra lazy and go for a bath."

Victor perked up at Jerome's suggestion, grinning. "A nice hot bubble bath, yeah. That sounds like a perfect idea." He pulled out Jerome's chair for him, waving for him to join him at the table. "Eat up! And then it's bath time."

Jerome hopped down off of the counter and sauntered over, pressing a sweet kiss to Victor's cheek, biting at it before he pulled away. "Have I mentioned how perfect you are lately?" It was his way of saying thank you. Victor really did spoil him. 

"Hmmm, not today," Victor said, smiling at the compliment. He pretended not to notice that the level of coffee in his cup has changed, hoping that those few sips wouldn't do too much damage. He adored Jerome, and Victor had the patience of a saint when needed, but fuck was his toy a little fucking crack head on caffeine.

Jerome sat down and grabbed his fork, making a little sandwich before digging in, his leg bouncing under the table from the tiny bit of coffee. He let out a happy little noise as he ate. His little monster was such a good cook, the most domestic assassin he had ever met.

It wasn't long before they both finished up, Jerome getting to his feet and pressing another little kiss to the top of Victor's head. "You go get the bath ready, handsome. I'll handle the dishes since you cooked." He nodded, surprised at how willing he was to tackle the little chore.

This whole domestic bliss thing, or at least their version of it, was all so very new to him and it made Jerome far happier than he had ever been before. It was surprising, satisfying and a little bit confusing; but Jerome couldn't imagine going back to life before Victor. He wouldn't. Now that he has his precious little monster, he refused to even entertain the idea of life without him.

Victor beamed up at Jerome as took their dishes. How perfect was this sweet little madman? He stood up, playfully smacking at Jerome's rear as he said, "Done and done, baby doll. The bubble bath master is on the case!" 

Jerome grinned at the little smack, eyes falling to Victor's butt as he walked away, watching until his little play thing disappeared around the corner. Thanks to the extra boost in energy from the couple sips of coffee, Jerome was finished up with the dishes rather quickly, setting them all in the dishwasher before making his way towards the bathroom. 

Water was cranked on, half a bottle of scented bubble bath dumped in, and music on. Victor absolutely loved music; there were several record players all throughout the apartment. Today's pick was Barry White's  _Can't Get Enough_ , side 2; what else would you listen to while taking a hot bubble bath with your lover?

The bubbles were threatening to overflow the tub by the time Victor turned the water off. He kicked his boxers to the floor, stretching his tight, hairless body out before he slowly sank down into the tub. He leaned back, wiggling his toes as he waited for Jerome to come join him. He closed his eyes, smiling to himself. He could spend every day like this; everything was perfect.

Jerome smiled at the sound of music pouring down the hall, finding Victor's insistence on vinyl to be adorable. There were so many little quirks his little monster had that made Jerome's heart beat a little faster. Like the way his nose always scrunched up when he laughed, how he always hummed when he was cooking, how he always looked up like he was trying to physically search his brain when he was trying to remember something, or how when his whole face lit up when he was excited. Jerome wasn't sure what love felt like, but he was pretty sure this was getting close.

By the time he made it into the bathroom, Jerome had already lost his robe and pants, discarding them on the floor in the bedroom. He closed the door behind him, seeing his perfect little monster in the tub, buried in a ridiculous amount of bubbles. Jerome grinned at the sight of him, happily climbing into the tub. He dipped his head under the water to get his messy hair wet, rubbing the water and bubbles away from his face as he settled into Victor's lap, laying his back against his monster's chest, his head resting against his shoulder.

"You weren't kidding when you said you were the bubble bath master." Jerome giggled, the bubbles practically up to his chin. He grabbed Victor's arms and tugged them to wrap around his hips, letting out a happy little hum. What could be more perfect than this? Jerome honestly couldn't think of better way to start off their lazy day at home. 

"I would never kid about bubbles," Victor said in a semi serious tone. He sighed happily as Jerome snuggled up against him, holding him close. Barry White was crooning away in the background, his lover in his arms; everything was awesome. Victor reached over to grab a sponge, dipping it in the water and lightly patting at all the dried blood. He smiled, admiring the bruises and bite marks he'd left; also knowing his body looked the same. Passion was certainly not lacking between them.

"Bubbles are serious business, no laughing matter at all," Jerome mused, grinning softly. He let out a pleased little hum as Victor began to gently wipe away the dried blood on his face and neck, letting his eyes slip shut and enjoying the sweet little gesture. He felt a fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was he going to throw up? Oh, nope. That had to be that butterfly feeling people talked about. Even though Jerome was utterly obsessed with Victor, the real affection that was growing between them was a whole new and exciting adventure for him.

"Is there anything else you need?" Victor asked, rewetting the sponge and moving over Jerome's chest. "Clothes? More musicals?" He kissed his hair, continuing, "Anything you want." He wanted to make sure that Jerome had everything he could possibly need. More musicals meant more singing in the morning, more clothes... Well, that meant more clothes to pull off and leave on the floor. There was a part of Victor that wanted nothing more than to make Jerome happy. He wanted to take care of him, like this, always.

" _Anything_ , huh? I have always wanted a puppy." Jerome laughed, never able to be serious for too long. He shook his head a bit, shifting so he was curled up to Victor's side, tangling their legs together and wrapping an arm around his waist. "I have a big comfy bed to sleep in, getting smacked around to my heart's desire, and you. What more could I need?" he murmured, pressing a few lazy kisses along Victor's bruised shoulder.

Jerome, for all of his crazy tendencies, was pretty easy to please. He had everything he could possibly want right then. He had a roof over his head, a big comfy bed and someone who matched his particular brand of passion and affection. There was nothing else be could possibly want. "Although," he said thoughtgully, "If I ever turn down more musicals, I've clearly been replaced with an evil clone. Or... would it be a  _good_  clone?" 

Victor snuggled close, washing away the last of the blood from his toy's shoulder. He began to stack little towers of bubbles along Jerome's arm with the sponge, smiling happily. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "And it would definitely be an evil clone; because you're perfect to me just like this, musicals especially." He nuzzled his nose against Jerome's hair, smirking as he slid the sponge along his side under the water.

"Shut up," Jerome mumbled against Victor's shoulder. Jerome, probably for the first time in his life, felt his cheeks heating up. Fuck, was he  _blushing_? He quickly buried his face in Victor's shoulder, hoping his little monster hadn't seen. Jerome fucking Valeska did not blush. And there certainly wasn't a stupid little grin on his face. Nope. And he definitely wasn't feeling the puke butterfly feeling again.  _Nooope._

Victor chuckled, his keen eyes catching the blush spreading across Jerome's cheeks. How could he not? His face was as bright red as his hair was! "Oh, my!" Victor exclaimed, batting his eyes dramatically. "Mr. Valeska! I do believe you're a bit flushed!" He giggled to himself, enjoying that he could to get to his lover like that. "You  _are_  perfect. Better get used to hearing it." His hands moved a little lower over Jerome's body; he did need to make sure that Jerome was clean everywhere; that was the point of a bath, right?   _  
_

Having his lover point out that he was blushing just made Jerome's face that much more red. Especially coupled with that sweet little compliment, he was sure all the blood in his body had rushed up to his head. There was a quick moment of panic, not really all to sure how to deal with that stupid, stupid, wonderful feeling washing over him. He let himself relax, feeling Victor's hands on the move again, thankful for the sudden teasing touches he felt at his waist. There was a feeling Jerome knew how to process. 

Victor let the sponge slowly rub down onto Jerome's hip, teasing softly. "I wish we could start every morning like this." He could not remember ever feeling this happy. He looked forward to coming home every time he was away from him; of course, that was only when he absolutely had to. He spent every second with Jerome that he could, he just couldn't get enough of him. His energy, his smiles, his laughter... He was amazing.

"Me too," Jerome replied, slowly trailing his lips along Victor's shoulder to his neck, tongue and teeth finding familiar bruises. His hand slowly traced over his lover's stomach, taking his time. He wanted to drag out their perfect little morning as long as he could.

Victor let out a sharp sigh when he felt Jerome's mouth working over his skin, that hand dancing along his stomach. His heart was starting to race, feeling a lustful stirring down in his loins. It didn't take hardly anything at all for Jerome to turn him on.

Victor leaned his head back against the side of the tub, scrubbing the sponge lower of Jerome's pelvis, working around to his inner thigh. He had nowhere to be today, no jobs, no errands; if it was possible, he would spend all the day in this damn bathtub with Jerome. He pressed a kiss against Jerome's fiery hair, letting out a small, happy mumble. "Fuck, that feels nice."

Right as Jerome was ready to dip his hand down just low enough to brush over Victor's cock, he heard a little buzz from the floor, Victor's ringtone for Oswald Cobblepot following seconds after. He flopped his head back against the wall of the tub, whining over dramatically. "Oh yay, the cock block alarm." he groaned, knowing very rarely could Victor's phone go unanswered.

Victor growled in frustration. He kissed Jerome quickly, hissing, "Just hold that thought." He had to push Jerome off of him, leaning over the tub to grab his phone. He answered it, trying not to scream, saying as calmly as he could, "Yyyess?" 

Victor grimaced, Oswald's voice on the other end sending him far away from his warm, happy bathtub and plaything. "Got it. I'll be right there." 

Jerome knew within seconds that their perfect little morning had to be put on hold. He rolled his eyes, ever the huffy little brat when things didn't go as planned. 

Victor hung up, lightly tossing the phone aside in annoyance. He sighed, dipping back in the tub to embrace Jerome and kiss him softly. "Gotta go, baby." He stood up, reaching for a towel and stepping out. He started drying himself off, cussing softly. He looked back to Jerome, knowing he would be disappointed; especially when he told him, "And you can't come with me. I need you to stay here while I'm gone, but I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Ughhhhh!"

"I mean it. Promise me you'll stay here," Victor said, his voice stern. It was the only way that he would know that Jerome was safe.

"Ulgh. Fine. I'll stay put. I promise. Scout's honor." Folding his arms over his chest, Jerome sunk deeper down in the tub, pouting. "You owe me when you get back," he nodded, sighing heavily. 

Victor leaned down, catching Jerome's mouth with his. "Absolutely."

After a few more lingering kisses and some more whining, Jerome sighed loudly again, nuzzling against Victor's cheek. "Well. Hurry back, don't get yourself shot and all that." It was his way of saying be careful. 

"Never," Victor said slyly, winking. He left the bathroom to go get ready for the job. He got suited up, arming himself appropriately. From what Oswald had told him on the phone, this was going to take all damn day.

Once Victor had left, Jerome finished up in the tub, still a bit grumpy their lovely morning had been so ruined. A lonesome Jerome left all by himself was never a good thing, especially when he was trying to process all these new feelings. He got dressed for the day after draining the tub and drying himself off, putting an obnoxious amount of product in his hair to keep it out of his face once it had dried a bit. 

Jerome really did try his very, very best to keep his promise about staying at the apartment. He tried everything he could to keep himself there. But after about hour two of Victor being gone, he couldn't handle being by himself at the apartment. He was hungry and he was so very bored. He left a little note on the kitchen table, just in case Victor came back sooner than expected. It was just a little trip to the store, in and out!

' _Went to get candy. And possibly cupcakes... definitely cupcakes_ ,' he wrote, signing it with a heart, a swirley 'j', and a smiley face. Victor wouldn't be too mad right? It was just around the corner, after all. He would probably be back long before Victor came back home. Nothing to worry about.

Jerome made his way down the steps of the apartment building, doing his best to not actually draw any attention to himself for once. But, he was talking to himself, trying to figure out exactly how to say to Victor what he was feeling. "No, telling him he makes you feel like you're gonna happy puke isn't right. But you're definitely gonna puke at some point," he rambled, pushing away a stubborn piece of hair that was always falling into his face. "Maybe just tell him. Just say it. Either you love him or you have the stomach flu. Easy enough." 

Jerome was so caught up in his little conversation with himself that he hadn't noticed he was being followed. Before he made it to the store, he found himself grabbed, arms yanked behind his back, being shoved up against the brick building. Then he heard those four letters, those stupid four fucking letters. " _GCPD_!" 

It had all happened so fast that Jerome didn't have a moment to react, quickly being out numbered by several cops and even more guns. He fought back, visciously, doing his best to try and break free. Clearly, they had come prepared. Had someone been following him? Tracking him? Fuck, this really wasn't happening right then, was it? And did he heard someone say Arkham? _Fuuuck_. 

As he was rather violently tossed into the back of a cop car, Jerome was furious with himself that he left the apartment. He should have just listened for once in his life. Victor had done a fantastic job keeping him safe and getting Jerome out of trouble all of this time. He kicked at the windows, frustrated with how futile his situation seemed, seething with rage.

Jerome knew that Victor would do anything for him, certain that his lover would go to hell and back in a heartbeat.

But Arkham? 

That wasn't going to be easy.


	5. Rescue Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a little help from Oswald, Victor sets off to rescue his beloved from Arkham.

Victor returned from the job very late, exhausted and bloody. It had been a difficult hit, and he was very happy to be coming home to his beloved. At least most of the blood splattered all over the him wasn't his. He came through the door, immediately sensing something was wrong. It was too quiet. The television was off, there was no music playing, no singing. He searched the apartment before honing in on the note Jerome had left him. Candy and cupcakes? What the fuck? Victor glanced at his watch, his heart already starting to pound with dread. It had been hours already. Jerome should have been back by now. If he had gotten into some sort of trouble, he would have called. Victor had given him a cell phone for that very reason.

He called quickly, his pulse jumping even higher with each unanswered ring. He began to feel sick. It rang and rang and eventually started going straight to voicemail when he tried calling. What the fuck was going on. Had he been taken? Did someone recognize him? Did those GCPD pigs from the other night put everyone in blue on alert that he was alive? What the fuck, what the fucking fuck.

Panic began to set in. He didn't know why he was so sure, but in his gut he knew that something was wrong. His mind began to unravel, racing into his bedroom and pulling a trunk out from under his bed. He refreshed his ammo, adding a few extra clips. He strapped two more additional guns to his person, one at each ankle.

Victor moved over to Jerome's side of the bed, opening up his bedside table drawer. He shifted through candy wrappers, a hand buzzer, a few knives, and a slinky, pulling out his beloved's revolver. Where ever Jerome was, he wasn't armed. He tucked it into his belt, intent on placing it in his lover's hands himself the moment he found him.

Panic was quickly being replaced by anger. Whoever had taken his lover would fucking pay. But where was he?

There was only person he knew he could to that would have the resources to find Jerome if the worst had happened; Oswald Cobblepot.

Victor ran every light, tires screeching and horns blaring as he hauled ass over to the mayor's mansion. He didn't care what time it was, parking right at the door and letting himself in. The guards at the door tried to stop him, but Victor quickly subdued them. They were left on the floor in a bloody heap, dislocated shoulders and one broken ankle, but alive.

He had never felt this before, this fear. It was making his stomach turn and he couldn't think clearly. He was actually afraid that something had happened. He began searching the house, screaming out, "Penguin! I need to see you! Now!" He was approached by a very angry Russian woman, whipping out his gun and sticking it right to her forehead, in absolutely no fucking mood for her mouth. Through gritted teeth, he growled, "Would you please let Mr. Penguin know that Victor Zsasz is here? I'm in a bit of a rush..."

Oswald had had a very long day of meeting after meeting, a few press conferences, and plenty that needed taken care of with the Gotham underground. He was exhausted, just barely having had a couple minutes to crawl into bed with Ed when he heard all of the commotion from downstairs. Was that Victor he heard? Grumpy and frustrated, he peeled himself away from his boyfriend, promising he would be back soon.

About halfway down the hall, he ran into a rather frantic Olga, confirming that all of this fuss was indeed Victor. Oswald reassured her that everything was fine, telling her she was able to go for the evening. He let out a huffy little sigh, hobbling down the stairs to see his guards in a bloody heap by the door. That was the last straw. He paid Zsasz far too well and gave him first dibs on every job, this was unacceptable!

Finding Victor in the dining room, Oswald immediately snapped. "And just what exactly do you think it is you're doing?" He spat, angry at the mess the assassin made. But it didn't take very long for Oswald to figure out something wasn't right. For the first time since he had brought the annoying little ginger home like a pet, he wasn't by Victor's side. "What is going on?" He asked, voice a bit gentler this time.

Zsasz had a look in his eyes like nothing Oswald had ever seen from him before. It wasn't just anger, no, there was a hint of fear. Victor generally feared nothing, so to see him like this was startling to say the least and he wasn't sure the taller man wasn't going to hit him.

Victor was nearly shaking, coming up to Oswald fast. That initial angry tone from his boss did not sit well with him. The distance between them was uncomfortably small, Victor's voice low and hoarse as he said, "Jerome is missing. I need your help to find him." He swallowed hard, trying to calm down. Fuck, he was almost completely out of control. He was struggling to hold on. There were even tears welling up in his eyes, pleading softly, "Please."

Oswald was surprised to see Victor so very close to losing control. In all the time he had known Victor, he couldn't ever really recall him even close to this state. His own anger quickly faded, that little 'please' actually sending a little ache into Oswald's chest. He didn't understand why Zsasz was so enamored with that insufferable little ginger bastard, but he was.

Edward had heard the commotion, throwing on a robe and coming down the stairs fast. He knew Oswald was perfectly capable of handling himself, but he wasn't going to chance it. He came to Oswald's side, seeing Victor Zsasz in such a state made him glad he had come. He put a protective arm around his boyfriend's shoulders, asking carefully, "What's happened?"

Oswald grimaced when he asked Victor to repeat himself, preparing himself for the assassin's anger.

"Jerome is missing!" Victor screamed, furious at having to repeat himself for his boss' little bitch. "He was at home when I left to do that job for Oswald this morning and when I came back, he's fucking gone. His phone is dead, not answering. Something is fucking wrong and I need your help, so fucking please help me!" He was panting, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to maintain some level of composure.

Oswald cringed when Victor screamed, putting a hand up carefully. "Let me make some calls. Just wait here, okay? And please, try not to dismantle anything else?" he stated calmly, carefully backing away to go grab his phone, dragging Edward along with him.

Once they were inside Edward's office, Oswald let out a heavy sigh. He had made a couple of phone calls, managing to find out rather quickly where Jerome was with his connections at the police department. When he had his answers, he looked up to Ed, rubbing a hand over his.

Ed could tell from the look on Oswald's face that the news wasn't good. He frowned, giving his boyfriend's hand a tight squeeze

"He's going to snap," Oswald groaned, keeping hold of Edward's hand to lead him back to talk with Victor.

Victor had started pacing. His fingers were tingling, itching to shoot something. His skin was on fire, his mind racing. Was Jerome okay? Was he hurt? Had he had enough to eat today? Did he miss him? He wouldn't have just left, right? Right?!

As they made their way back out into the hallway, Oswald was sure to keep his distance, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Victor's inevitable snap. He felt Edward's arm come protectively around his shoulders, feeling a little safer. "So, we've found him. Jerome is in Arkham..." Oswald said cautiously.

Victor was shaking, all the blood in his body rushing to his face. They had taken his lover back to that hellish prison. "Arkham?!" he seethed.

Edward took another step to place himself in front of Oswald, actually nervous. He had never seen Victor like this, it was downright terrifying. He feared to let another peep, but very softly confirmed, "Yes, Arkham Asylum."

Oswald's breath caught in his chest as Ed took a protective step between them. His love had always been a protective thing, even more so since their little Clayface fiasco. But this was Zsasz, and if he had decided to, Ed would not have been alright.

Victor lunged forward in a rage, that stupid bitch just had to repeat it, it was like he couldn't help himself!

Victor hesitated, he saw how they cowered from him. No, it wasn't their fault. They were his friends, or at least as close to friends as he had. They hadn't done this. It was the GCPD. He flung himself at the wall, fist reeled back and slamming hard. He pounded it again and again, screaming, "Fuck! Fuck!!! I will fucking tear it to the fucking ground! That fucking hell hole will run red with the blood of every fucking pig in there!"

Oswald was thankful that Victor's rage was redirected away from them, holding back the urge to yell at him to stop. Yes, Arkham was horrible. But this was still his home. So rude.

Victor stepped back from the wall, a good sized hole left behind. If he hadn't been wearing gloves, they would have seen the blood squishing between his fingers from his busted knuckles. He looked back at Oswald, his chest heaving as he hissed, "I'm going to get him out of there. Right. Now."

Oswald carefully raised a hand and placed it on Victor's shoulder, giving a little squeeze. "I can make a call and get you through the gates, but that's about as much pull as I have," he nodded, offering a sympathetic look before pulling his hand away. "Just... be careful not to get tossed in there yourself. Arkham is a terrible, awful place." Oswald shuddered a bit at the thought.

Oswald knew there was no talking Victor out of it, so he didn't bother. He had offered what help he could and tried not to worry too much. This wasn't going to be easy and there was a good chance Victor was going to land himself right there beside his little ginger. What a shame, he was such a great assassin; and a good friend, too. "Good luck."

Victor flinched at Oswald's touch, but appreciated the affection. He nodded, saying quietly, "If I'm not able to get Jerome out of there, I won't be coming back." His career as an assassin, his professional livelihood, his home; he would gladly give it all up. None of it meant fucking shit without having Jerome to share it with. If he couldn't free him, he would let himself get locked up. At least then, they would be together. He cleared his throat, adding, "Thank you... I appreciate everything you've done for me."

Not one for tearful farewells, Victor didn't say anything else, turning and leaving quickly. He stepped over the bodies of the guards he'd beat up, out the door, and in his car.

Edward had watched Victor leave, frowning at the hole in the wall. He held Oswald close, thinking over Victor's words and a sad smile crossed his mouth. It didn't take a genius to see how much that little ginger meant to Zsasz. He kissed his boyfriend's cheek, saying softly, "He loves him... It's sort of sweet, in a very twisted sort of way." He took Oswald's hand, sighing, "Let's go back to bed. Hopefully, when we wake up, we'll see on the news the most incredible escape of the decade."

Oswald leaned into Edward's side, glancing over all of the collateral damage that had been left in Victor's wake. If it had been for any other reason, he would be paying for all of it out of pocket. But damn it, Oswald had such a soft spot for love. "He really does. Don't understand it one bit. But he is crazy about him. I really do hope he makes it out of there," he agreed, giving Ed's hand a little squeeze, following him back up to their bedroom to settle in for the night.

Victor was on the phone, calling in the Zsaszettes. All of them. He knew he couldn't do this alone and he needed serious help to even attempt such a feat. Tires squealed the whole way until he was a few miles outside of Arkham Asylum, waiting for his ladies to arrive.

The girls were there, all armed and ready. They knew what they had to do and for Zsasz, they would have gladly given their life. He was their mentor, their teacher; not one hesitated to help him. A plan was quickly put together and they all loaded into Victor's car. He pulled up to Arkham fast, the gates were open just as Oswald had promised they would be. He hauled ass through, the first set of guards they encountered going whump whump underneath his tires. He hit the brakes, the car sliding sideways and almost crashing into the entrance.

From there, he and the girls hopped out, storming through the front doors. Guns blazing, he took the lead with the ladies fast behind him. Guards were dropping, bullets were flying everywhere. Victor could hear the alarm sounding, screeching loud in his ears. Victor ducked, getting pinned down behind a desk as he exchanged fire with one of the guards from around a corner. He hoped that Jerome could hear the alarm where ever he was, hoped that he knew he was there. "I'm coming, baby," Victor hissed between returning fire. "Just hold on a little longer. I'm fucking coming."

One of the Zsaszettes moved around to intercept the guard that had Victor pinned down. A quick shot and he was out of the way. Victor jumped up, grabbing the keys off of the man's corpse and moving to the first of many gates. He and the girls kept pushing forward, using the keys to dive deeper into the asylum. The further they went, the security got tighter, the guards more plentiful. One of the girls took a bullet as she was trying to dash across a hall, Victor screaming out in rage. He grabbed one of the other Zsaszettes, pulling her close and snapping, "Get her and take her back to the car! Get her out of here!"

The remaining Zsaszettes had pushed forward into one of the patient wards, Victor following close behind. This was where they were holding Jerome according to the computer system one of his girls had hacked into along the way. They were so close.

Jerome had been immediately dragged back to Arkham, a quick blood test confirming that he was indeed Jerome Valeska. The last time he had been hauled off here, he didn't care. It was like a vacation. But now, he was freaking out a bit. Okay, more than a bit. He wanted to be back at home with Victor. If he had just fucking stayed put like he was told, none of this would have ever happened.

Now he found himself locked inside of his old cell, in a familiar, albeit comfy, black and white striped jumpsuit with the same C-198 on it as before. He had been coming unglued since he had been thrown in, pacing around, trying to figure out how he was going to get out. He had done it before, not on his own, of course; but it could be done again.

By the time Jerome had settled into his bed, his long legs dangling over the side, bouncing up and down restlessly while he thought of nothing but ways to get back to his monster, the alarms were sounded. Nothing new; the alarms went off on Arkham all the time. He got up to follow the drill and get onto the floor. The alarm kept screaming and screaming, and Jerome started to hear gunshots. Lots of them. Could it be?

Jerome hopped up the peer through the few bars in the door of his cell, grinning wide when he saw a familiar face. It was One Super Dark Drawn Eyebrow Zsaszette! He couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, grinning wide as another Zsaszette came down the corner. It was Fuzzy Red Mohawk, she was here, too! "Hey there, pretty ladies!" he called out, sticking his hands through the bars to wave.

More guards had appeared, these ones in full riot gear and armed with bigger guns. The alarm was still wailing away, patients yelling and hollering at all the excitement. The guards started returning fire back at the girls, positioning themselves right in front of Jerome's cell and driving them back down the hallway away from him.

Victor heard Jerome's voice for a few seconds and he nearly lost his mind. They were so fucking close! His heart was pounding, crouching low. The girls couldn't get a shot in, bullets being deflected off shields and helmets. Victor was getting frustrated. One of the Zsaszettes took a hit, falling down and having to be dragged off to safety. They were losing ground, fast.

Jerome was on his tip toes, peeking over the guards stationed in front of his cell to try and see what was happening. He watched the utter carnage with a heaving chest, partially from excitement, partially worry; Victor and the girls were drastically outnumbered. But fuck, his little monster was a vicious, ruthless little thing. He knew in his heart that he would prevail somehow. He had to.

Victor hung his head down, taking a deep breath. He looked at his ladies, saying sternly, "No matter what happens, you get him out of here. That's an order!"

Victor didn't even give them time to respond, both guns refreshed with ammo and drawn, gripping them tightly. He closed his eyes; for a precious moment, he couldn't hear the gunfire, the screaming. He heard total and complete silence save for the sound of his own breathing. His eyes flashed open and he came racing around the corner, walking right into the chaos. It was certainly suicide, but Victor had no intention of dying that day. Fuck no.

Victor walked calmly, aiming carefully and firing off a barrage of shots, his keen eye holding true and hitting the guards in the most vulnerable spots; the little crack at their neck between their helmet and chest plate, their knees just below the edge of the shields.

Bullets were flying all around him as the guards tried to drive him back. Most of them seemed to soar right on by. The guards were terrified to see the infamous and ghastly Victor Zsasz coming right at them, completely fearless and enraged. But not all had lost their senses. A bullet grazed Victor's arm and another one struck him in the thigh

"No!" Jerome screamed, eyes wide and his stomach turning sour. Not his dear monster, no, no, no. A blinding rage washed over him, completely unhinged. He tried to reach his hands through the bars to choke the life out of the guard that had dare hurt his beautiful little monster, but he couldn't reach them.

Victor fell to his knees, roaring in pain. The guard who had shot him dropped next. The Zsaszettes were desperate to try and help Victor, trying to return some cover fire to shield him for as long as they could. He managed to get to his feet, continuing to fire back.

One by one the guards were falling, but everything was happening so fast, and Victor took two more hits to his left shoulder. Blood splashed against the wall and Victor howled, gritting his teeth in pain. The gun he had in that hand dropped to the floor, clattering away. His remaining gun he aimed, taking out the final guard with a fierce growl. He ran up on him, staring down at his still gasping body. He flipped the visor of his helmet open and began to pistol whip his face in until all he could see was a mess of red.

Panting, blood dripping down his arm and leg, he collapsed in front of Jerome's cell. He grabbed the guard's keys from his pocket, chest heaving from effort, unlocking it and swinging it open. He smiled weakly up at his lover, gasping, "Come on, baby. I'm taking you home."

Jerome normally would have pounced right on him, but his monster was hurt. He crouched down, cupping his cheeks and pressing their lips together hard, breaking the kiss much sooner than he wanted to. "Hey beautiful," he greeted affectionately. They didn't have much time. He was surprisingly gentle as he hooked his arm around Victor's waist to help him up.

That kiss made all of the pain disappear, Victor sighing happily. All the adrenaline was soaring through his body and he forgot he had been shot three times. His beautiful madman was here in his arms again and he had never tasted so sweet. But reality came crashing over him along with the pain, groaning loudly as Jerome helped him to his feet.

Jerome reached down to the gun tucked in Victor's belt, knowing there was a chance they could run into more trouble on the way out. He grinned when he pulled out his very own revolver, pressing a quick kiss to Victor's jaw.

"Aw, you brought my gun!" Jerome gushed. "You're the best!" His little monster was so sweet. He fired off a shot into the guard who had hurt his precious Victor for good measure, feeling satisfied.

Victor laughed, saying with a strained smile, "I'm thoughtful like that, you know."

Jerome used his arm around Victor's waist to hold as much of his weight as he could as they made their way out, the Zsaszette's leading the way.

Thankfully, there was only three more poorly prepared guards left on their way out, easily taken care of as they made their way out of the asylum and back to Victor's car. Jerome quickly got Victor into the back seat, tossing the keys up to one of the girls and telling them to drive. He settled on the floor the back with his monster, holding pressure down on his wounds as the car peeled away from Arkham and into the city.

Victor was very grateful as he collapsed in the seat. He didn't even care he was bleeding all over the interior; his monster was free again. He knew his Zsaszettes would take him to a doctor on the level to patch him up. No way he could go to a legit hospital after this. He felt a little dizzy from the blood loss, the pressure Jerome was holding felt distant, smiling up at his dear lover as he struggled to stay awake.

Now that they were safely away, Jerome could finally say what he needed to say. He leaned in and pressed a much needed kiss to Victor's lips, letting it linger. He sighed longingly, pulling away to speak.

"I love you, like, a lot," Jerome admitted, their lips brushing as he spoke. "And I wanted to say it before I got grabbed and taken back to Arkham. I just... I wasn't sure if it was love or if I was just gonna puke. But it's been a while. I haven't puked. So, I'm pretty sure it's love." He cracked a little grin, laughing softly, surprised at how nervous he was saying it. Nervous wasn't something Jerome had ever felt before.

Victor's eyes widened in surprise. Love; he loved him. His beautiful little monster loved him and he knew immediately that there was no doubt that he felt the same. Victor smiled wide in spite of the pain, even chuckling softly when Jerome compared the feeling of love to nausea.

"And I love you," Victor sighed, nuzzling his nose against Jerome's. "I've never felt this... Anything like this. Ever." He licked his lips, his voice filled with passion as he said, "I would break into Arkham a thousand times to keep you by my side. You're mine, forever. I love you, too; so very, very fucking much."

Jerome's felt his heart thumping hard in his chest when Victor said those three little words back. Love wasn't something Jerome had ever really cared much about or that he thought would ever play a major role in his life. But here he was. Nothing about their relationship was ordinary and things had happened so fast between them, but Jerome was head over heels for Victor. He couldn't be without him. He wouldn't. It felt better than anything; better than chaos, destruction, murder, laughter. All of it.

"Forever." Jerome assured him, kissing him sweetly.

Victor managed to get a bloody hand up, resting it on Jerome's cheek, eagerly retiring his kiss. His very soul was overflowing with joy; he never knew it was possible to feel this way about anyone. His eyes fluttered for a moment, still fighting to stay awake. "Are... Are we getting close?"

Victor's hand felt cold and worry was starting to set in. Jerome pulled back to look up, one of the Zsaszettes giving him a nod as they pulled down an alley. Up ahead was a small, inconspicuous looking warehouse.

"Almost there, gorgeous. Hold on just a little longer, okay?" Jerome nodded, his hands starting to go numb from how hard he was holding down over Victor's wounds.

Victor was smiling. He was starting to feel sleepy and far away. He was in love; madly and deeply, he was in love with Jerome Valeska. What a beautiful name for a beautiful madman. He wondered if they got married if he would take Jerome's name. Victor sighed softly. His eyes were closing. Maybe just for a second, to rest just for a little while. He was so very tired.

When the car came to a stop, Jerome was quick to open the door, the Zsaszettes going ahead to alert the doctor. Jerome lifted Victor up out of the car, holding him close as he carried him inside. The set up inside the warehouse wasn't very clean, it wasn't very well-equipped, but it was going to have to do. There was an examination table and surgical instruments strewn about, shelves of various pills and liquids.

Jerome pressed a kiss to the top of his little monster's head as he reached the table, carefully laying him down. The doctor approached, a spindly little man in a blood stained coat with a lot cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He didn't give anything in the way of a greeting, gloving up, and going right to work on Victor.

Now, the worst part, the thing Jerome was the very worst at in the world, what had caused all of this in the first place; waiting. He paced around anxiously. He was trying to stay out of the way, but still be close enough to keep an eye on Victor or pounce if the doctor made one wrong move. He hummed to himself nervously, taking long strides back and forth, green eyes fixed closely on Victor the whole while.

Victor had felt himself being lifted up, realizing Jerome was carrying him somewhere. He hadn't even realized that the car had had stopped. He was a little confused at first, feeling his pants rip, wondering what was happening until he felt a burning sensation in his leg and let out a loud yell, fighting to get off the table.

There was a nurse, old and grizzled like a small bear. She grabbed hold of Victor's arm, expertly inserting an IV and got the drugs pumping. Victor was still fighting; he could feel the doctor digging around in his leg for the bullet and fuck did it hurt!

Jerome folded his arms tightly over his chest, his nails digging into his own sides. They were hurting his perfect little monster. It was hurting to help, but it still made him angry. He was shaking with rage, trying his hardest to keep from snapping.

The nurse quickly cut away Victor's jacket and shirt and applied a temporary pressure dressing to his shoulder while the doctor attempted to work on his leg. Victor whined, grunting in pain. It was getting harder to fight, but he kept struggling, kicking at the doctor and trying to sit up. He was belligerent, angry, the pain overwhelming his senses.

The doctor whirled around from his work, the cigarette twitching in his mouth as he called out, "Hey, you! Red! I need you to come hold him down until the anesthetics kick in!"

Jerome's attention snapped to the short little man, his eyes narrowing. He walked over, grabbing the cigarette out of his mouth and stomping it out on the floor, giving him a warning look. "That can't be very sanitary."

The doctor scowled when Jerome snatched away his cigarette. He had made a career of being that one doctor you could call when shit went bad and you weren't on good terms with the cops. He had patched up hundreds, probably thousands of criminals over the years. Murderers, drug dealers, pimps, and all sorts of twisted people in between. Even so, that damn redhead was giving him the creeps.

"You want sanitary, Gotham General is across town," the doctor snorted, moving a pair of clamps around in Victor's wound, still struggling to locate the bullet. He was grumpy over his lost smoke, but he could tell the ginger was in no mood to be messed with. He sighed, trying to be sympathetic, saying more kindly, "If you hold him still, I can pop this thing out, okay?

It physically made Jerome's chest hurt, but he put all of weight down onto Victor, locking his gaze with his beautiful monster. "Hey, gorgeous, look at me. I know it hurts, but look at me," he said, trying to distract him, fighting off the urge to give the doctor a reason to be more gentle with his Victor.

Victor was sweating, pale. His eyes rolled up to Jerome's, panting hard. His whole body felt like it was on fire and the pain where the doctor was working was absolute agony. He nodded, whimpering, trying hard to focus on his lover.

"It's only gonna suck a couple more minutes, promise. Then you'll feel better and you'll have lots of pain killers and I'll take real good care of you." Every time he felt Victor struggle, it felt like a stab in the chest, but it had to be done.

Jerome gritted his teeth, turning his attention back to the doctor, trying his very hardest to keep calm. "Could you try to be a little more fucking gentle? Or I could break your hands. Options!" he suggested before turning his attention back to Victor, leaning in and resting their foreheads together, nuzzling against his cheek. "You're gonna be okay," he murmured, as much for his own sake as Victor's.

Victor closed his eyes, letting his body relax as much as he could. The sensation of Jerome's brow against his, touching his cheek; he tried to concentrate on that instead of the pain. He felt a huge rush of brutal pressure and then suddenly relief.

There was a loud metal clink as the doctor dropped the bullet into a small dish. "One down, two to go."

The drugs were kicking in finally and it was easier to relax now. Zsasz couldn't even feel the doctor sewing up his leg, only feeling a distant scratching as he moved up to his shoulder. He stared longingly up at Jerome, dizzy and exhausted. It was all worth it. His dear madman was free and soon they would be home. "Cookies," Victor managed softly, smiling dopily as the drugs continued to work their magic. "Let's make... some cookies."

Jerome let out a soft laugh, pressing a sweet little kiss to Victor's lips, nipping at his lower lip affectionately. "We can make as many cookies as you want," he mused, reaching up and cupping his cheek. This was probably the most gentle Jerome had ever been in his entire life, even with Victor. Normally, he loved seeing his monster bruised and bleeding, especially at his hands. But seeing him hurt like this was killing him.

Victor smiled sleepily. He couldn't feel much at all now, not even realizing the doctor had still been working on him until he heard two more metal clinks as he extracted the other bullets. He kissed Jerome back with as much passion as he could muster under the influence of so many drugs, grinning at the affectionate little nip. His mind was a very happy place now; they were both alive, together.

All of the Zsaszettes were okay, too. Victor smiled over at his loyal ladies, eternally grateful. He couldn't have done this without them. The two that were hurt during the rescue were already being tended to by the gruff little nurse.

Jerome ran his thumb along Victor's jaw, up over that pouty lower lip, pressing loving little kisses against his cheek. "We can do anything you want when we get home. But you have to rest up and get better. No work for a little while. So, you're gonna be stuck at home with little ol' me until you're better. Hope that's not too terrible," he teased with a smile, so happy to be going home with his monster instead of falling asleep to the screams of the insane.

Victor bit at Jerome's thumb playfully, grumbling softly, "I'll be fine. I just need a few days and I'll be back on my feet in no time."

Jerome couldn't help but smile at the little bite to his thumb, gently giving his lip a little pinch. There was his monster. He was much more calm now that Victor was clearly feeling better, able to tell he was fighting sleep by the way his words began to slur just a bit. "You'll be back on your feet when you're better and not a second sooner." he insisted, fingers brushing along Victor's jaw, pulling back to just admire how god damn gorgeous his sleepy little monster was.

Victor closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Being at home with you sounds like the most absolutely fucking perfect way to get better." He couldn't imagine anything nicer. Big comfy bed with the love of his life next to him to cuddle. He knew then he was never going to let Jerome out of his sight if he could help it from now on. He never wanted to feel that sort of fear and anguish again. It was the closest sensation to dying Victor had ever felt, thinking he wasn't going to see Jerome again. He knew he was starting to doze off, but managed to open one eye to stare at Jerome, adding sleepily, "And don't forget about the cookies."

"Cookies are serious business, Mr. Zsasz, I would never forget," Jerome laughed when that eye peered up at him.

The doctor was finishing up and was putting together a little goody bag of drugs. He offered it to Jerome, saying very quietly, fearful of waking Victor as he drifted off to sleep, "Instructions are on the bottles. Plenty of pain meds to keep him comfortable, antibiotics for infection, and steroids for any inflammation. Just keep the wounds clean and he will be just fine. But he needs rest, lots of it."

Jerome gave a little nod, offering the doctor a grateful glance for a moment. "Thank you," he said as he took the bag. He carefully picked Victor up into his arms, headed back out to the car. It was finally time to go home. Jerome settled into the back seat again with Victor laid out asleep in his lap. It wasn't long before the girls got them back to Victor's apartment, making sure Zsasz and Jerome were safely inside before they left.

Jerome got his monster settled, changing into a pair of his boyfriend's pajama pants before getting comfy in bed beside his monster. He had set all the pills over on the bedside table, all the labels facing outward so he could remember when Victor was supposed to take what. Jerome was careful not wake his love, all gentle kisses and sweet touches. He snuggled up close, kissing his brow, watching his chest move up and down as he slept. Jerome laid his head down next to his, so very grateful to be home.

It wasn't long before Jerome dozed off and several hours had passed by. Victor was waking back up, the pain medicines having worn off. He grunted uncomfortably, looking around as he tried to figure out what time it was. He could tell that it was still late, no light coming in through the window excepts from the city around them. Fuck, had he slept all day? Damn it, he hurt. He saw the pill bottles over on the table and wanted to grab them; at least one of those had to be a narcotic. He tried to move, but he looked down to find Jerome had laid himself across the bed and right on top of him, sound asleep.

Victor smiled, running a hand over his lover's back. The meds could wait. He didn't want to spoil this. All the rage and struggle and pain had been worth it to bring Jerome back. He would have burned the whole city to the ground to see him home again. Victor closed his eyes, laying his head back down. It was dark, it was warm, and his darling madman was here beside him, safely back in his arms. 


	6. Escape!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is determined to rush his recovery and earns himself a healthy dose of Jerome's anger.

Victor had finally had enough. 

It had been a few days since the incredible rescue from Arkham and Victor had been locked up in the apartment recovering from his wounds. Jerome had been the ever doting lover, making sure he was taking all of the medicine he was supposed to and changing the dressings each night before bed. He was practically waiting on him hand and foot. Victor had been overwhelmed by all the kindness and affection, falling more in love with that feisty redhead with each passing day. But he was getting antsy; having to eat in bed all the time because he couldn't get out to the table, needing help to take a shower, needing help to do fucking anything at all... 

Victor was going crazy not being able to function on his own. Jerome simply wouldn't let him. But he had finally made up his mind and today was the last day of that nonsense. He was going to escape, maybe go down to the bakery a few blocks over or maybe just walk around. Fuck it, he just had to get out of here. 

It was pretty early in the morning and Victor always woke up before Jerome did. He very carefully had to disentangle himself from Jerome's arms and legs, slowly pulling away and sitting up on the edge of the bed. His leg still hurt, but he felt confident he could put a bit of weight on it. He took his time, rising up to his feet. He felt a little wobbly, but he managed to limp across to his dresser, grabbing some sweat pants and a shirt. 

Crap; how he was gonna get the pants on? He set the shirt back inside the open drawer for the moment, trying to very carefully put one foot in a leg of the sweat pants. Okay, good so far. But when he tried to move his leg that was injured and step into the other leg of the pants, a burning pain shot up his thigh and he lost his balance. He crashed down into the dresser, flailing for anything to hold onto. All he managed to grab was the open drawer and he took it down with him to the floor, landing flat on his back with a loud and unhappy groan. "Ow." 

Since the Arkham breakout and getting back home to the apartment, Jerome's only focus was Victor. Not only was he making certain his little monster was taking all of his medications and that his bandages were being changed and kept clean, he was insisting on waiting on him hand and foot. Anything Victor possibly needed, Jerome was right on top of it, from making sure Victor didn't need to lift a finger when he was hungry to making sure when he needed a shower that he was there holding up most of his monster's weight. 

Honestly, it completely caught Jerome off guard how much he cared and how doting he was when it came to Victor getting better. He had never been the overly caring or affectionate type, so this was all completely new for him. Jerome was like a hawk; any time Victor tried to sneak getting up by himself or tried to answer his phone about taking a job, Jerome was quick to put a stop to it. 

It barely even took a second when he heard his lover crash to the floor for Jerome to shoot up to his feet, his heart pounding hard in his chest with worry. His sleepy eyes looked him over as he hurried to his side, crouching down to tug the drawer off of him. He made sure to check to make sure he hadn't torn any of his stitches before realizing he was trying to leave the apartment. 

"Are you okay, kitten?" Jerome questioned, the worry obvious in his tone. The frustration was evident, too. He was working so hard to make sure Victor got better and he was being so stubborn about trying to do things in his own he wasn't ready to do. 

"I'm peachy keen!" Victor snapped, even though they both knew he was full of crap, his tone more nasty than he meant it to be. There were certainly other frustrations at hand; they hadn't had sex since he'd been hurt and that made Victor feel like complete shit. What kind of man was he that he couldn't even muster the strength to fuck his boyfriend good and bloody? 

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England." Jerome knew Victor was tired of being cooped up in the apartment. There was a part of him that felt extra bad about it because it was kind of his fault; if he had just stayed at home that day, everything would have been fine. Even so, it didn't mean he wasn't frustrated with Victor's stubbornness and the lack of sex. He wasn't sure which was killing him more. 

Now that he could see that Victor hadn't hurt himself any worse than before, it was really getting under Jerome's skin. He gripped his jaw in his hand hard, eyes narrowing a bit as he forced Victor to look at him. "Where did you think you were going?" 

"I was just going to get some muffins and come right back!" Victor growled softly, flinching away from Jerome's grip, more angry than he realized. His leg was hurting like hell from falling and where the drawer had landed on him didn't feel much better. He hated feeling so helpless and he was damn sure tired of being stuck in this damn room. This failed escape attempt only confirmed that he was not ready to be moving around and it pissed him off even more to know Jerome was right to keep him here. 

"How many times do I need to tell you to stay put," Jerome growled, his fingers dragging across his face in frustration. "Stop being so stubborn or I swear, I will kick your ass into bed until you're better." 

Victor kicked away the pants he was trying to put on, groaning loudly as he struggled to his feet. Fuck, he was grumpy. Can't kill, can't fuck, can't get muffins. This was torture. He gritted his teeth at the threat, rolling his eyes as he said, "Right. _You_. Kick my ass. Very cute." 

Victor's scoffing pushed Jerome closer to his breaking point. He gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists at his side. He couldn't believe Victor was talking down to Jerome like he was some weak little bitch. That was it. " _Excuse me_?" he snapped, hand immediately going up to his lover's throat. 

Jerome was furious. After all he had done to take care of Victor and he wanted to be an asshole, making shitty comments and fight with him? He wasn't having it. He picked up Victor by his arm and neck, digging his fingers in and savagely throwing him back against the bed. His concern for Victor's injuries was out the window in that moment, far too angry. 

Jerome climbed right on top of him, using his thighs to squeeze his hips tightly, determined not to let him moved an inch. He used his forearm to press down hard against Victor's chest, only after giving him a hard slug across the face, not letting him up. "Try me," he growled, eyes narrowed at his boyfriend. 

That punch snapped Victor's head to the side. He tasted blood, licking his lips, and growling. He felt a faint passionate stirring in his gut from being handled so roughly, but he ignored it. He wanted Jerome to get the hell off of him. He tried to lift up his hips and throw the redhead off, he tried sitting up and heaving him to the side. He wiggled around again and again to the point he was pushing the stitches to their limit and crying out in pain. Jerome didn't budge. 

Victor's leg was hurting, badly. Fighting had only made it worse. He could feel his pulse throbbing down in the wound. He was really starting to lose his patience. He'd often held the advantage physically between them, especially with all of his training, but now there was nothing he could do. He was stuck. 

The more his lover struggled, the more Jerome fought to keep him pinned, using his legs to hold Victor's in place. He knew he would tear his stitches if he didn't stop. He had to admit, there was a hint of excitement bubbling up from all the struggling, the sight of blood on his little monster's lips. But he was still angry. 

Jerome now had a point to prove, damn it; he had no intentions of backing down in the slightest. As his frustration grew and his patience wore thinner and thinner, Jerome had finally had enough. He didn't hesitate to tighten his grip around his darling, defiant little monster's throat, slamming his head back against the headboard hard. His voice was a low, dangerous hiss as he spoke through gritted teeth, "Are you fucking done?" 

Jerome didn't give Victor much of a chance to answer, replacing his forearm with his hand against his neck. His normally bright, wild green eyes were suddenly dark, cold, and vicious. His gaze never left Victor's as his other hand reached back, his thumb pressing down against his stitches. "Keep it up and I will start ripping the stitches out one by one. And I will take my fucking time. Got it?" 

Victor narrowed his eyes up at his dear ginger, holding back a whimper of pain, still defiant in his defeat, snarling, "Fuck you!" 

Jerome's fingers tightened around Victor's throat, his face hovering barely inches above his lover's as he spoke. "Maybe I will," he growled, using the hand around Victor's throat to keep him pinned while the other quickly reached for the set of restraints attached to their bed frame. He was quick to lock one of Victor's wrists tightly, even though he caught a punch in the mouth in the process, his lip instantly split and bleeding. He didn't hesitate to spit the mouthful of blood into Victor's face, making quick work of restraining his other wrist. 

Victor licked the blood from around his mouth, growling low as that second restraint clicked into place. He had picked these handsome leather cuffs out personally and he knew there was no getting out of them unless someone let you out. It's why he bought the damn things. He pulled at them anyway, furious that Jerome had tied him up. 

The beating? Oh, that was fine. That was nothing different from their usual foreplay. But being trapped like this? Infuriating. He bucked his entire body upwards as he struggled, not having the strength to do much good and only working to tire himself out. 

Jerome eased up his grip on Victor's throat now that it was he wasn't going anywhere, looking him over with a dark, lustful eyes, a devious smirk spreading across his face. He was definitely starting to lean more towards turned on than angry, but not quite ready to give in. He gripped Victor's jaw in his hard as he sat back and admired his work. 

"My, my. Don't you look downright _pretty_ all tied up little a little bitch," Jerome taunted, accentuating his words with a few sharp little slaps to Victor's blood covered cheek, tracing his thumb over his lower lip. 

"Little bitch?!" Victor raged, his cheeks burning hot. He snapped his teeth, kicking his feet in protest. He was panting, seething. He tried to move his face away from Victor's grasp, he didn't even want him touching him right then he was so mad. Writhing underneath Jerome's hips and completely helpless... God, it felt good; he had never let anyone even attempt something like this. He felt a distant twitch down in his loins, mentally commanding his cock to stand down. 

No, no, no. Victor was determined to resist. 

"Let me the fuck out of these things, _riiiiiight_ now," Victor snarled. The way Jerome was looking at him was making his heart thump delightfully fast, but anger was still Victor's dominant emotion for the time being. He ignored how hot it suddenly was in their bedroom, how uncomfortable his boxers were quickly becoming. No, fuck this was bullshit, he wanted out. "Are you listening to me, Jerome? I'm not in the goddamn mood, so fucking untie me!" When Victor fought to free himself from the grip on his jaw, Jerome only gripped tighter. He sucked at his bleeding lip as considered what exactly to do with him in that moment. There were so many options for his beautiful little monster. Jerome let his hips grind down slowly against his lover's, able to feel the way his cock was getting hard despite his words. Normally, even with their constant back and forth, Jerome was happy to submit to Victor and let him take control. But not today. Victor had underestimated him for the last time. 

Jerome leaned in, lips brushing against Victor's ear as he spoke. "Beg," he growled, nails digging into his lover's cheek. "Beg me to let you out and if it's good enough, I'll consider it." 

Victor's breath caught in his throat as Jerome's brushed against his ear. Beg?! Was he fucking high?! Victor M.F. Zsasz did not fucking beg. A small groan escaped him as Jerome started to grind into him. Fuck, it felt so good, Victor suddenly realizing how starved for affection he was. How long had it been since he'd been inside him? How long since he'd tasted his lover's sweat and blood? Just thinking about it was getting him harder and there was no way for him to hide his growing erection from Jerome. 

Jerome nuzzled into Victor's jaw just below his ear, sweet and slow for just a moment before he bit down hard at the juncture, not stopping until he felt the skin give between his teeth, lapping at the blood that began to pool there. 

Victor hadn't quite seen this side of Jerome before; it was dangerous, exciting, all the things he loved him for. He had never let anyone dominate him, a fluttery feeling overtaking his stomach as he considered what his little ginger might have in store for him. When he bit his jaw, Victor found himself pressing up against Jerome's teeth, panting loudly as he felt his blood running out into his lover's mouth. 

"You're not getting a god damn thing one way or another until I hear you fucking beg. Do you understand me?" Jerome snarled into his ear, sucking up a mouthful of blood, making it exceptionally clear he wasn't backing down. 

"Please," Victor said softly, swallowing hard. He couldn't believe he was doing this, giving in. He could feel that his boxers were getting damp from the head of his cock dripping being so switched on. He licked his lips, saying louder, "Please, pretty fucking please let me go. Please, baby, I love you. Let me go and I will fuck you so good, I promise. I will make you come so hard." 

"Good boy," Jerome praised, his breathing getting a bit heavier. He felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of Victor begging, each word going straight to Jerome's cock, leaving him rock hard beneath his boxers. He pulled back, running his tongue over the mix of their blood on his lips. His fingers ran over his little monster's blood covered cheek and lips, admiring the sight. Fuck, he was gorgeous like this. "You're so sexy when you beg nice and pretty for me," he continued to praise, thumb dragging over Victor's pouty lower lip, eyes watching him intently. 

Victor was enjoying the adoration, he didn't know why but it made him feel so sexy when Jerome called him a good boy. He twisted his hands around in the cuffs, desperate to touch him. He wanted him so terribly. He smiled eagerly. He was beginning to feel confident, more sure of himself that Jerome would let him go. "Please; release me and I will be _such_ a good boy for you. Please..." 

All of this stirred up something new, dark and dangerous in Jerome. Normally, he would have given in right then and there, let Victor go and take over. But not today. No, no, no. Today, Victor was his to use as he pleased. Today, Victor was his picture perfect little fuck toy. 

Jerome ran his tongue over his upper lip slowly, his hips grinding down against Victor's cock, letting his free hand trail down over his play thing's chest, giving his nipple a harsh little twist. After one last little please from his lover, Jerome offered a sweet little smile, letting his other hand trail up to the leather cuffs, letting Victor think he was going to release him. 

Victor was purring contently. Yes, this, this is how he liked things. He was no longer even angry. He was horny, still in pain, but he had no doubt when Jerome's hand reached out to his arm that he was gonna open the restraints. Mmph, and then he'd fuck him good. 

Jerome's smile turned dark, bringing the back of his hand across Victor's cheek sharply. He snatched his lover's jaw, slipping his finger into his mouth and hooking his cheek, forcing his lover to look at him. 

"The fuck!" Victor cried out, albeit a bit a bit garbled. 

"I'm not letting you go. Nope! See, _I_ am gonna be the one fucking _you_. Understand me, baby?" Jerome explained, voice a low, husky growl, green eyes locked with Victor's brown ones. 

Victor's eyes were wide as Jerome declared his intentions, feeling another strong twitch in his cock and his entire body tensing up. No, no, he'd never let _anyone_ do this before. He'd never wanted to, much less actually imagined that he could trust someone to be inside him. He felt a deep yearning down in his gut, a twisted up feeling of anticipation as his mind began to race. He was nervous; what would it even feel like, would it hurt? 

"And if you can't be good for me," Jerome snarled softly as he continued, "You get fucking _nothing_ but watching me jerk off right on top of you. Got it?" 

Victor whimpered softly, running his tongue eagerly over Jerome's finger in his mouth. His body was so desperate for any kind of attention and he couldn't bare the thought of Jerome pleasuring himself without him. He looked so gorgeous being in control, so powerful, those green eyes burning right into him. Victor knew he didn't have the strength to fight back and he was so miserably frustrated. Fuck, Jerome was like a damn sex god commanding him to sacrifice his body over to him. He took a deep breath in through his nose, his eyes fluttering closed. 

"Got it," Victor whispered. 

Jerome watched through lustful eyes as Victor's tongue ran out of his mouth and over his hand, letting out a heavy breath as Victor agreed. Fuck, seeing his little monster submit was one of the most exhilarating and beautiful things he had ever seen. He leaned in, giving an affectionate little nuzzle to praise him, pressing a few kisses along his throat. 

"You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now, kitten. All tied up, being such a good boy for me. You're so pretty all helpless. Wanna keep you like this forever," Jerome complimented as pressed close, biting hard, leaving a few dark marks on his neck, possessive as always. 

Victor pulled gently against the cuffs, all those sweet words rushing straight to his head. He felt so vulnerable, so defenseless. He was completely at Jerome's mercy and... and he was starting to like it. He had never trusted anyone enough to let himself go, to let all of that precious control slip away. 

Jerome didn't need to hear Victor say it to know it was his little play thing's first time. He smirked softly, trailing kisses and bites down over his monster's chest and stomach, rewarding him for being so good. He made quick work of getting Victor's boxers out of the way, green eyes fixed up on him as he hoisted his thighs over his shoulders. 

When Jerome lifted up his legs, Victor groaned from a mixture of excitement and pain, panting softly. 

Jerome gently palmed over Victor's cock while his tongue flicked over that tight hole of his. He ran his tongue flat, savoring his taste and probing around that tight rim. 

Victor's back arched up as his ginger lover touched his cock, painfully sensitive from being so turned on. He didn't know what to expect, breathing loudly through his mouth as he felt Jerome's softly licking down between his cheeks. He was trying to relax, but he couldn't. 

Jerome took his time, slowly working a finger into him. He slid in carefully, sucking at his inner thigh approvingly. Fuck, Victor was tight. 

Victor turned his head to try and muffle his cries into the pillow at that first bite of penetration. At first, all he felt was a sting of pain. But slowly, it began to burn so sweetly and that finger felt impossibly big inside of him. As Jerome continued to work into him, it was a little easier and it started to feel good. Really good. He whined softly, letting out a little cry of, "Fffuck." If just a finger felt like this, how the hell was he going to handle his cock. 

Jerome watched as Victor buried his face, those little whines going right to his cock. Fuck, it was so hot to just watch him squirm. Jerome licked over his lips, slowly easing Victor's hips back down in the bed. He moved his body back up over his monster's, keeping his finger working in and out of him, his lips just barely brushing against his ear as he spoke. "Relax," he commanded, nipping at his earlobe to distract him from the slight sting. "You're never gonna be able to handle my cock if you can't relax for a finger. And that would make me very disappointed." 

Victor lifted up his head enough to give a little nod, taking a few deep breaths. He didn't want to disappoint his lover, no, not at all. Jerome's lips so close to his ear sent flurry of goose bumps rising over his flesh, shuddering. 

Jerome pulled away only to spit on his fingers, slowly but surely adding another into Victor. He let his lips trail down over his lover's neck, all tongue and teeth as he fingered his tight ass. His own cock was painfully hard inside of his boxers, but he was prepared to give his little monster all the time in the world he could possibly need. He had never wanted to watch someone fall apart quite so badly before. He wanted nothing more than to leave his little monster a shaking mess by the time he was done with him. 

Victor moaned loudly, having to concentrate to force his hips to stop resisting, his stomach muscles struggling to relax. Those two fingers seemed so big, so ridiculously huge, but it felt so good. It was a sensation he could have never imagined. His arms stopped pulling at the restraints, his head falling back as he let his body melt into the bed. 

Victor found himself moving his ass down against Jerome's hand, grunting forcefully with each little push. "Fuck, that's, oh... Yeah." He couldn't even get a full sentence out. It was still burning, still tight, but it was amazing. There was that little spot inside of him that Jerome's fingers were brushing against and it made him feel like he was about to come all over himself. He kept smashing his face into the pillow to stifle his crying, moaning shamelessly as he started rocking his hips down on Jerome's fingers. 

"That's it," Jerome encouraged. He felt like his skin was on fire from holding back, but it was so satisfying to leave Victor a writhing mess with only his fingers. Each little groan and grunt urged Jerome on, his fingers slipping in and out of him faster. He angled his fingertips to hit that little spot that had Victor moaning so loudly. Jerome's cock was practically throbbing as his little monster began to push his hips down. 

After what felt like forever, Jerome finally couldn't resist anymore. He pulled his fingers back, quickly getting rid of his boxers and letting them fall to the ground. He spit into his palm, coating his cock with a little grunt. He looked Victor over a moment, taking a moment to decide how he wanted him. Jerome got up onto his knees, settling in between Victor's thighs. 

Jerome looked down over his beautiful little monster, reaching up and brushing a hand over his cheek. Fuck, he was such a pretty little thing. He lined his cock up, barely pressing against Victor's tight hole, lifting his good leg up over his own hip. "Just try to relax," he reminded him, crashing their lips together for a much needed kiss, slowly sinking into his lover with a loud groan. 

The kiss muffled Victor's loud scream of passion, his entire body tightening back up on instinct as Jerome thrust into him. Fuck, it hurt. The pain was all he could focus on at first, crying out against Jerome's lips. It was like he was being torn apart and he pulled hard against the cuffs, struggling. He didn't think he was going to be handle Jerome's cock and it wasn't even all the way in yet. He had to break their kiss, his head crashing back against the pillow. 

"Fuuck, you're so goddamn tight," Jerome growled, panting heavily as he worked to push all the way into Victor. He had to settle for short, half thrusts, not able to get his full length in. 

Victor closed his eyes, sucking a deep breath in between his gritted teeth as he remembered Jerome's words. Relax, he had to fucking relax. Being mindful of his injury, Victor slowly began to spread his legs for Jerome, panting so hard his chest was heaving with every breath. When his legs fell apart, his hips finally eased up. He could feel his lover's cock sinking into him a little deeper, wanting more, moaning passionately, "Fuck, Jerome! You feel so, fucking, good! C'mon, _please_ fuck me!" 

Jerome couldn't stop watching Victor's gorgeous face. He such a pretty little monster when he was slowly falling apart, a writhing mess beneath him. Hearing him begging was the sweetest sound Jerome could possibly imagine. Once Victor relaxed, he was able to sink his cock fully into his lover and fuck, did it feel amazing. "Fuck, you are sexy when you beg," he groaned out. 

Victor bared his teeth when he finally felt all of Jerome's cock thrust into him. His back was arching off the bed, his lover hitting that beautiful sweet spot inside of him, getting closer and closer with each thrust as he slammed deeper. Victor realized he was already dangerously close to coming. 

Jerome's thrusts were relentless once he got going, gripping Victor's hips hard as he fucked him savagely. 

Victor hated it; he hated how good it felt for Jerome to fuck him, to completely control his body and every sensation. He had never felt so compromised, so... dirty. He was a complete and total slave to Jerome's hips, biting his lip. Fuck, it was so fucking good. He writhed underneath Jerome, the burning feeling in his loins quickly washing over him, eyes wide as he realized he couldn't hold off any longer, moaning, "Fuck, I think.. I think I'm coming!" 

Jerome gasped when he Victor's body tightening around him. He was surprised when Victor cried out, whimpering loudly as he felt warm come splashing against his stomach. He gritted his teeth. "Oh, kitten. Did I say you could come? I'm no where near done with you yet," Jerome groaned, biting down on his lip hard, fucking through Victor's orgasm. 

"Oh, fucccck, _God_!" Victor was screaming as Jerome plowed into him through every sweet shudder of his climax. He had never come so hard in his life and he didn't think it was going to stop. It was never ending ecstasy and Jerome just kept fucking him; harder, faster. 

"Gonna make you come all over again for me," Jerome snarled as he kept his hips slamming hard and fast, never once giving his love a moment to catch his breath. 

Victor would have normally doubted anyone's ability to make him orgasm twice in one romp, but Victor's cock was still perfectly hard, mewling passionately. God, he never wanted this to ever stop and he couldn't believe how afraid he had been to try this. The pain was almost completely gone and all Victor felt was absolute pleasure as Jerome's dick slid in and out of him. He was finally really getting into it, having completely given in, growling softly, "Then fuck me harder, hurt me! Make me come for you. Fuck, I want to, so badly." 

Jerome raised an impressed brow as Victor not only didn't make any attempts to stop, but became so desperate for more. He knew how overwhelming it could be to keep going after getting off, and his little monster was pleading for more, desperate for him. He was certain he had never witness anything so hot in his life. 

Victor's back arched up so he could rock his ass down on Jerome's cock to catch every brutal thrust, moaning and panting. He was a sweating and wriggling mess as Jerome's hands dug at his hips. "Fucking hit me!" 

Jerome didn't hesitate, bringing a hand up and back handing Victor hard across the mouth, groaning at the welcome sight of blood trailing down over his chin. He leaned in, dragging his tongue along the trail of blood on his chin up to his lip, nipping hard, knowing it would hurt. "You look so fucking good like this, you know that?" he murmured against his lips. 

The slap to Victor's face was amazing, the pain sending shivers down his spine and on through his body to his cock. He whimpered softly when Jerome bit his lip, licking his lips and tasting a mix of his Jerome's spit and his own blood. His head felt so dizzy with all the emotions and pleasure washing over him. 

Jerome knew he was getting close. Victor just felt way too good, overwhelmingly good. His thrusts were getting shorter and faster, trying his best to hold off. He snaked a hand between them, panting heavily and groaning as he gripped Victor's cock, jerking it in time with his own relentless thrusts. 

Victor jumped when Jerome grabbed his cock, he wailed loudly. It was still sensitive from coming earlier, weeping from his first climax. There was no way to slap away Jerome's hands, no way to resist. Each stroke was driving him closer to the edge again. 

"Fuck, so close. You feel so fucking good," Jerome moaned. Before he knew it, he just couldn't hold back, his orgasm finally hitting him hard. He slammed his hips desperately into Victor's, finally giving in, riding out each and every little shudder, coming hard inside of his little monster. 

Victor could feel the heat of the fluid pumping into him. It felt so warm and sexy for his lover to fill him up. His hips were starting to tremble. Combined with Jerome's ferocious stroking, he couldn't stop himself, coming again. It was just as intense as before, in total disbelief that so much fluid could still come out of him. He threw his head back, screaming loudly as his moved his hips to grind into Jerome for every last second of his incredible orgasm. 

Victor realized he was shaking, swallowing back another small moan. His heart was still beating so fast, his wrists raw from fighting with the cuffs. He smiled up at Jerome, taking a deep breath and sighing loudly. "Fuck." 

Jerome was panting heavily by the time they had both finished, having to remind himself not to just collapse on top of Victor. His little monster was still injured after all. He looked down at Victor with a lazy little grin, leaning in and stealing a sweet little kiss. 

"You need to make me mad more often, cupcake," Jerome mused against his lips, carefully pulling out, wiping his hand off on the sheet before reaching up and undoing the leather cuffs. 

"Fucking right?" Victor laughed, still winded from the incredible dicking he'd just taken. Now he knew what Jerome was always screaming about; it wasn't something Victor would want to do all the time, but bottoming was a fucking intensely passionate experience. He gratefully pulled his arms back down, so happy to be free at last. 

Jerome flopped beside his little monster, slowly catching his breath, reaching over and gently rubbing at the angry looking marks on Victor's wrists, his other arm wrapping around his lover's waist. Fuck, that was awesome. Jerome had no idea he had all of that in him. 

Victor stripped the case off the pillow behind his head, using that to wipe himself off before throwing it onto the floor. He smiled at the kiss, cuddling close as Jerome snuggled beside him. He groaned softly, stretching out. His whole body was aching, but it had totally been worth it. He nuzzled his nose against that soft nest of red hair, kissing Jerome softly. 

"Love you. Lots," Jerome purred, nuzzling against his shoulder. 

"Love you, too," Victor said, taking one last big deep breath to help calm his heart beat down. 

Jerome looked up at him with a serious expression for a moment. "No more trying to sneak out, okay? I promise, the second you're good to leave the apartment, we'll go, okay? Even if it's four in the morning." It was Jerome's way of telling him that he had been worried Victor had hurt himself more... at least up until that whole, unbridled rage thing. 

Victor smirked, teasing, "I don't know, escaping is kind of fun if it ends up like this. You were... So amazing. But you know." He winced slightly, laughing, "I wouldn't mind a bag of frozen peas." Damn, his ass was fucking sore. He chuckled softly, but frowned when he saw that serious look was still hanging around. He sighed, kissing Jerome's brow as he said defeatedly, "All right. I'll stay put. Scout's honor." 

"Promise?" Jerome asked, holding out his pinky. Pinky promises were serious business after all. 

"Promise," Victor assured him, taking his pinky with his own and giving it a firm shake. He would keep his word. Any promise he made to Jerome was one he would never break. He grumbled lightly, knowing it would still be some time before he could leave the house, but he would stay put for his lover's sake. He knew it was because Jerome worried so much, because he loved him. As frustrating as it was, it was sweet. No one had ever cared enough to look after him like this before. 

Jerome gave a happy little sigh, nuzzling against Victor's cheek affectionately. He couldn't believe how something so simple made him so incredibly happy. A great early morning lay, snuggling up close his little monster, and a promise Victor would stop trying to escape. There were those damn puke butterflies again. 

Jerome enjoyed used the arm around Victor's waist to pull his monster closer, burying his face in the crook of his neck, pressing adoring little kisses all along the smooth, pale skin. "Want breakfast, kitten? Or a shower? Breakfast in the shower? Anything," he asked, accentuating each word with a kiss or a nip to his lover' neck. 

Victor grinned, his neck scrunching up as Jerome nuzzled into it and started pecking with with all those soft kisses. It tickled just enough to make him laugh, saying, "Ooo, decisions, decisions." He looped his good arm around Jerome's shoulders, pulling him close and kissing his forehead. 

"Or we could always lay in bed naked all day? Snuggle, watch a couple movies, have more mind blowing sex and be lazy all day," Jerome rambled, his fingers tracing along his lover's hip, drawing mindless little shapes against the curve of his hipbone. 

Victor wrinkled up his nose in thought, asking, "How about a little of all the above? I do really like lazy, though. We could order Chinese food for breakfast so you don't have to cook, stay here naked in bed, eat Chinese off each other's naked bodies, some mind blowing sex for dessert, and then shower?" He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, teasing, "I would love to nibble on your sweet chow mein, baby." 

"Sounds like the best day ever," Jerome nodded, his cheeks heating up a bit as Victor wiggled his eyebrows like that, hiding his face like always. Stupid blushing. 

"You stay here, take your medicine for the morning, and I'll go order our food. And don't you dare put clothes on!" he added, stealing a quick kiss before grabbing Victor's phone, hopping up to go grab the Chinese menu and order their food. He hummed happily to himself as he wandered to the kitchen, just as happy as could be. 

Could their life together be any more perfect?

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clear something up - We wrote this *before* Jerome's return had actually aired on Gotham. We knew he was coming back, but we didn't exactly know HOW and we weren't going to hold off on writing to find out. We left it a tad fuzzy as a result to fill in later. In our version of events here in AU land, the resurrection by Dwight was entirely successful and Jerome's face remained intact. Don't judge us for keeping Jerome pretty. XD

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [105](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371094) by [Mrs_Moony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Moony/pseuds/Mrs_Moony)




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